Absence
by Sable Snow
Summary: After Haruhi suffers a huge loss, her life is turned upside down. The hosts will do anything they can to help, but will it be enough to pull Haruhi back from this? ABANDONED
1. Chapter One

**Trigger Warning:** This story will contain depression, suicidal thoughts, and suicide attempts throughout its entirety. That is why this story is labeled as mature. Please don't read if you have a problem with this subject matter.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters or story line that makes Ouran Highschool Host Club the absolutely amazing tale that it is. That honor belongs to Bisco Hatori.

 **A/N:** I'm trying something very different with this story. Generally, I write 3rd person stories in past tense, but I decided to make this one 1st person present. It was necessary to really get into Haruhi's head, and I hope that won't turn too many of you away from this fic. I know that reading I/me/my my can be off-putting for a lot of people; I hope you'll give it a chance anyway.

Let me know what you think!

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Chapter One

There are five stages of grief; I read about them once. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. I'm pretty sure I skipped through them faster than is healthy or normal. Probably in an hour or two. I don't think denial ever hit me at all. I'm not some naive child who's never suffered loss. I saw his lifeless body laying on that cold metal table, and I knew he was gone. Bargaining never visited either, and I don't expect it to. I don't believe in magic or wishes or gods. There's no such thing in reality as a life for a life. I won't waste my time with ridiculous prayers.

Anger. That one I felt, but in reverse, I think. I've heard of people being mad at loved ones for leaving them, but it's not _him_ that I was mad at. Depression...that one I felt too. Still feeling, probably, when I feel anything, that is. After the initial shock wore off and I was finally alone, a few tears fell, but I didn't let them continue. What has crying ever done for me? It's never made me feel better or fixed whatever problem that may have caused the reaction. So, I shut it down. I won't spend my days with blurred vision and tear tracks down my face when it gets me nothing. Those few tears were more than enough.

Acceptance is a dumb name for a stage. No one ever accepts the loss, they just learn to live with it. Maybe the last stage should be called 'Trudging Along' or 'Acting Like It's Fine.' Those are more accurate, anyway.

I've thought about the stages too much, probably, when there are other things I should be focusing on today.

I can tell it's cold out, but I don't even feel it. Everyone is wearing layers of clothes or large puffy jackets. Several have umbrellas by their sides, waiting for the inevitable downpour as forewarned by the dark clouds overhead. I'm just in a dress. The other hosts are around, behind me, I think. One of them tried to grab my hand when they arrived, probably some show of support, but I shook them off. I don't want support.

I want my dad.

The few glances I've spared have told me that I hardly know anyone here. It's mostly work friends, and I wasn't part of that world. I should be grateful that my own friends have turned up. A familiar face is comforting, isn't it? It should be. Right now it's nothing to me.

Mostly, I'm just staring at the ground or at the small container of what's _left_. What else am I supposed to do? That's a stupid question. I'm _supposed_ to cry, but the few tears I shed after the shock wore off were enough, it seems. There are no tears left. I'm _supposed_ to be angry at the unfairness of the world, but I've always known the world doesn't cater to the less fortunate. This is nothing new. I'm _supposed_ to plead for this all to be a dream, but even my worst nightmares never touched this. Dreams are never as bad as reality. I know I'm supposed to let the stages take their course and then I'm supposed to find my way back to normal. I don't remember normal.

I keep replaying that day, over and over again. I didn't answer the phone when it rang. I should have answered the fucking phone. I might've saved enough time. Dinner was cooking and I was afraid it would burn. At the time, that seemed more important. But I managed to hear the caller leave a message over the banging of my spoon against the pot and the sizzling of the meat. The voice identified herself as a nurse before informing me that my father was badly hurt and that I should return the call as soon as possible. I lunged for the phone, trying to answer before she hung up, but failed. I had to replay the message twice to get the number down that she ran through too quickly, and then my fingers kept fumbling over the buttons. I eventually managed to press them all in the right sequence and then I waited. And I waited and waited and I swear no one anywhere in the world has ever taken so long to pick up a phone. I think it was really only three or four rings.

The journey to the hospital was a blur. I know I took the train but how I got to or from the stations is a mystery to me. I guess I should count myself lucky for not getting run over. Lucky. Right. I asked a nurse for help, and she typed entirely too noisily on her keyboard to look up his information. She frowned, and looked at me. Her eyes went back to the screen and up to me again. I almost lost my temper. She called a doctor over, and he told me to follow him.

In an empty patient room, he told me I was too late.

They showed me his face, clean and pale, but adorned with cuts and scrapes, proving it had _just_ been bloody. His body was covered, and I can't imagine the horrors it must have hidden. A woman, just a few stitches above her eye, grabbed my hand in both of hers. She was crying, apologizing to me for not seeing him sooner. Apologizing for something she can never make up for.

I didn't even get to say goodbye.

I'm numb. I've felt enough and I'm just done with it. I want this to be over with already so I can finally be alone. Everyone wants to help, but there's nothing they can do. No one could've saved him then. No one can help me now.

All that's left of him is hidden away in a concrete locker. A square foot chunk of space, surrounded by countless identical spaces. From a distance, you can't even tell which one is his. At least he's next to mom.

I turn to leave, noticing a jacket fall to the ground. Someone must've placed it on my shoulders at some point. I don't try to pick it up; it's not like I need it. I push past the gaggle of people behind me, ready to be home. Some of them might've called my name, offered condolences (again), asked if there was anything they could do. I can't be sure; I don't even try to listen. Someone tries to grab my arm and I jerk away, never slowing my pace.

I leave the cemetery, starting my walk home. The bus would be faster, but I'm not looking for speed. All I want now is solitude and the blissful silence that comes with it. External silence that is. The silence that comes when there's no one around to tell me just how sorry they are for me and look at me, eyes full of pity. I can't stand it.

Internal silence doesn't exist though. Could I have saved him? It might have been easy. If I had delayed him by a minute, or urged him to leave earlier to ensure he wouldn't be late. I could've volunteered to go with him or in his stead. Hell, I bet one of the hosts would've given me a ride if I asked. Or him a ride. Why didn't I ask? Why didn't I do anything different? How could I let this happen? One of the stages should be called 'Blame.' In my head, I know this isn't my fault, but... I'm so sorry, dad.

I walk and think endlessly. At some point, the rain finally breaks free of the clouds. Some vague memory of the butterfly effect wonders into my head, and I can't help the morbid curiosity of which butterfly flapped its wings at just the right moment and angle to have caused _this_. Maybe I should start a butterfly farm. If you get enough of them close together, does one wing flap negate another?

When I finally reach my building, I can't help my reaction to opening the front door. "I'm home." I realize my mistake before I've even gotten my second foot inside. There's no one to announce my presence to. There never will be again.

My mother's shrine is no longer hers alone. I added a picture of my father a few days ago. In front of it, there's a blanket on the floor where I've spent my nights. I sit there now, wrap the blanket around myself and just gaze at the shrine. Eventually, I lay down in the same place, staring. I forego dinner. I can't remember the last time I ate an actual meal. It doesn't seem like a necessity these days. Sleep always comes eventually.

A knock at the door wakes me up. It's what has woken me up everyday for the past week. If it weren't for this annoyance, I might just lay there all day. Maybe I would lay there forever. Maybe I would wither away. Maybe that would be nice.

The knocking continues until I open it. Today, it's Kyoya. It takes his eyes traveling down my body for me to realize I'm still in my dress from yesterday. It's dry now and horribly rumpled. It's amazing I don't feel sick, actually. Maybe good health is what you get for making a blood sacrifice. That has to be the most morbid and worst deal I've ever heard. Is that what they call gallows humor? A fleeting thought wonders how much he's judging me for my disheveled appearance. Probably a lot considering how prim and proper _he_ always is. I don't care, and I don't invite him in. I don't even offer a greeting, content to just stare at him.

It's the same as it has been all week. Yesterday it was Honey, tomorrow will probably be Hikaru or Kaoru again. They've been taking turns checking in on me. They cleaned up the mess I left in the kitchen in my haste to reach the hospital. It wasn't until a few days after the incident that I found out Kyoya had sent someone to my apartment to shut off all the burners, and prevented my home from going up in smoke. The cookware had been completely ruined by then, though. They ask how I'm doing, and what I need. They barge in, food usually in hand, and remind me to eat. I always take a few bites to appease them. They won't shut up if I don't. Later, it all comes back up. Nothing will stay down.

Sometimes they lay out a change of clothes for me and draw a bath. Sometimes they offer to take me out of my stuffy home. They're uncomfortable here. They always try to hide it with their smiles and reassurances, but I'm not blind. My home is depressing, and most of them are innately happy. They can't handle it and I don't want them to. I always get them to leave after some time.

Kyoya ignores my lack of courtesy, gently pushing his way past me and invading my sanctuary. As expected, he starts a bath for me. I humor him; it gives me more time to myself. Laying back in the hot water I'm not deaf to the noise Kyoya is making in the rest of the house. It sounds like he's moving things around. At one point I hear him talking, but I can't make out what he's saying. I dunk my head under to drown it out.

I don't get out until the water turns cold. There are clothes waiting for me, including panties and a bra, and I know I should be embarrassed that a boy has gone through my underwear, but I can't muster up the energy. I don't care for the clothes he's picked today, and opt to just wrap a towel around the middle of my body, securing it at the top. I'll pick out my own clothes. I step into the hall and freeze. There are people here I don't know, packing boxes. I glance around, looking for an explanation.

Opening the bathroom door must've alerted Kyoya who peaks into the hall. I see him raise an eyebrow as he takes in my attire. I should be embarrassed about that too. "I left clothes for you, Haruhi," he states, as if I was completely blind and missed them. I can hear some of the superiority seeping back into his voice and less of the soothing voice he's been trying out on me. I almost want to point out that his kid gloves are slipping.

"What's going on?" I decide to ignore his statement.

"They're packing up your things. As of today you'll be living at the Ootori estate, so we're going to get you moved in. If you'll get dressed I'll answer any questions you have."

"Wait, what? I'm not moving anywhere. I live _here_ , senpai."

"I really can't explain until you're wearing clothes, Haruhi. Please." He waves a hand at my towel and I glance down at it. When I look back up he's looking away. It seems he's the one embarrassed. How very un-Kyoya of him.

"Fine, whatever." I head toward my room, but don't get passed my dad's. His door, which has remained firmly shut since _that_ day, was now wide open. Two people are inside, fitting knick knacks into boxes. I completely lose it. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I guess I do have some rage in me. Maybe I'm regressing through the stages.

The two packers stop and look up at me, but I don't give them a chance to speak. "GET. OUT." I want to break their hands for touching _his_ things and physically _throw_ them out, but I can't step foot in there. Not yet. My glare was enough though, as they were quick to vacate the room. I grab the door handle and slam it shut. I round on them, furious. "How, _dare_ you go into that room. How _dare_ you touch his things! What gives you the right?"

"Haruhi, I apologize." I turn to Kyoya, finding a new outlet for my anger. He holds his hands up, palms facing me. Is he seriously trying to calm me down? "I thought you would want his things to come too, but if you want to pack it yourself that's fine. We'll leave the shrine to you as well." His kid gloves are back, voice slow and soothing and completely unnatural for him. I hate it.

"Oh my god." It was barely a whisper as I run by him in a panic, needing to see the shrine for myself. No one has touched it yet, and I kneel down in front of it, taking a shaky breath.

Kyoya follows me of course, and only allows my a few minutes before he interrupts my silent vigil. "Haruhi, you need to get dressed. Most of your room has already been packed, so you'll have to stick with the things I picked out for you. Please." He gestured back to the bathroom.

I look up at him, the anger now wiped from my face. I'm back to not feeling again, and decide to get dressed after all. Why not? I dress languidly and rejoin Kyoya who is sitting on my sofa. "Why will I be living with you?"

"Well, the others wanted to take you in too of course, but were unable to. Tamaki's grandmother disapproves wholeheartedly so there was no chance there. The Hitachiin home is undergoing some renovations so it was less than ideal. The Haninozuka's and Morinozuka's are both strict households that don't have time for the 'frivolity' of the host club or its drama. Luckily my father likes you and he owes me a favor."

I just stare. What can I say to all of that? "How is this 'host club' drama? This has nothing to do with the club." It's probably the least important thing I could've asked, but maybe I'm working my way up.

"Your problems are ours as well." It's not a sufficient answer for the old Haruhi, but me? I don't care enough to make him elaborate.

"And why am I moving at all? What's wrong with my apartment?" There, those questions matter.

"Haruhi..." Kyoya drifts off, frowning. He clearly doesn't know how to voice his explanation, which honestly kind of scares me. If Kyoya Ootori couldn't find the words, I really wasn't going to like this. He tries again. "Haruhi...how do you plan to pay for this apartment? You can't work while you're in school, and it's only paid through next week."

"Maybe I'll drop out." That's the first time the thought crossed my mind, and I immediately throw the idea out. I can't leave Ouran. I shake my head, letting Kyoya know I don't mean that. "I don't know. I could get a loan." That was a better idea.

"It's not just the money, Haruhi. You're a minor." I don't speak, waiting for him to continue. What does it matter how old I am? "People in your situation tend to go to group homes."

"My situation?" Now I'm the one with a raised eyebrow. He just needs to spit it out already.

Kyoya looks away for a moment, taking a deep breath. I expect this treatment with the others, but I'm seriously sick of it coming from Kyoya. The Kyoya I know is straight-forward and would never waste this kind of time beating around the bush. Just spit it out! "You're an orphan now, Haruhi." My sharp intake of breath stops him from continuing. There it is. Maybe beating around the bush isn't all bad. I knew this fact already, but I hadn't said it aloud. I haven't said any of it out loud. That makes it too real. "...you were going to be sent to an orphanage. At your age, it's doubtful you would've found a foster home before you aged out of the system." As an afterthought, he offers an apologetic whisper, "I'm sorry, Haruhi."

I shake my head, not wanting the apology. Not wanting any of this. "Does that mean you'll be my foster family?" It was a stupid question. In another life, it might've been a joke.

"Not in so many words. My family's lawyers stepped in before the government could claim your dependence. Basically, my father laid a big enough claim as friends of the family, for your guardianship to rightfully transfer to him." Meaning he donated a chunk of money. "He'll be your legal guardian, but that doesn't make him a father figure or me a brother." Kyoya pauses again, and I continue to stare. Does he want me to say something now? It's not like I can argue if they went to all the trouble. "None of us wanted your life to completely get uprooted, Haruhi. I hope you'll forgive me for acting without asking you."

I roll my eyes. When have any of the hosts ever asked my permission ahead of time? "But I can keep everything?" I would need to sort through what I wanted and needed. There would be no need to keep measuring spoons or knife sets if I wasn't going to have my own kitchen.

"Anything you want, yes. There's plenty of room for you."

Looking around my living room, there's hardly anything left. Pictures have been taken down, the book shelf is all packed up. Do I need any of it? I walk to an open box and start throwing things out of it. I don't care where they land, I'm on a mission. Kyoya's watching me, and I'm glad when he keeps his mouth shut. When that box is empty I go to the next. Half way through, I find what I'm looking for. It's a photo album. I run my hand over the hard blue cover, remembering all the times I've flipped through it. I need _this._

Clutching it to my chest I head to the shrine in the corner. I sit in front of it as I have so many times lately, and look over at Kyoya. "What is this going to cost me, senpai? It might be cheaper for me to stay here."

Kyoya shook his head. "This isn't like the vase, Haruhi. Speaking of which, now that you're a member of my household, I'll be officially paying your debt off. You don't need to worry about money now."

I look back at the shrine, and sit in silence for a while. The packing continues in other rooms and I try to ignore it. After a while, I relax my grip on the photo album and lean it against the shrine. Retrieving the box I'd previously emptied, I set to work meticulously packing up the shrine. Everything is carefully wrapped and gently placed into the box, including the album. "You'll see the light again soon," I murmur as I add the framed pictures of each parent.

Finished, I stand up to look at Kyoya again who hasn't stopped watching me. He's probably waiting for a mental breakdown or something. I hope he isn't holding his breath. "I want everything to go to charity." Just because I apparently don't need to worry about money doesn't mean there weren't plenty of people in poverty still. "Everything in the kitchen except the cookbooks, all the furniture, the books, the knick knacks. I don't need any of it. I want everything from my shrine, my clothes, and I need to go through my dad's room."

"I'll let them know." Kyoya finally stood to talk to the person in charge of these home invaders. He gestures to various things as he speaks, and the man nods along. I don't stick around, trusting Kyoya not to let me down.

In the hall, my dad's bedroom door is still firmly shut. I approach it and lay a hand on the knob. A simple twist of the wrist and I'll be in. That's all I have to do. I take a deep breath, preparing myself. I count to three, vowing to turn the handle, and fail to do so. "Damn it," I curse under my breath and lean my head against the door. My hand is frozen to the door knob. Why can't I open it?

"Haruhi," Kyoya says, coming up behind me. "Do you want some help?"

" _No._ " I don't need help to open a damn door. I'm not that pathetic. I try to move my hand again, willing it to twist the knob. When it remains still I bang my head on the door, letting out a grunt of frustration. And hey, at least that's another emotion, right? I'm really coming along now.

"Let me help you, Haruhi. I'll just open the door, okay? I won't go in." I don't answer and he takes that as my consent. His hand squeezes over top of mine on the handle and twists. "You have to let go now," he reminds me, gently pulling my hand away from the door. It swings open.

I don't remember how to move. I haven't been in this room since before the accident, and I can't go in now. Everything in there is a reminder of what I'm missing. I turn away from it, intending to leave, and Kyoya grabs my shoulders, holding me in place. "You have to do this, Haruhi. I know it's hard, but it needs to be done."

"I can't." I shake my head just once, and wait for him to let me go. He doesn't.

"Then I need to send someone else in there to pack it up. You can go through it another time. When you're ready."

I want to laugh in his face. I'll never be ready for this. I force myself to be anyway. No way in hell am I letting someone else touch my dad's things. What right do they have? I pivot back towards the door and step forward.

It feels like I passed through an invisible barrier as his perfume abruptly hits me. How could I not smell that in the hall? I take a few more tentative steps into the room, and cautiously sit on the bed. It's unmade. A pillow has tumbled to the ground, blankets have been tossed aside. Palms down, I rub the sheets. He didn't know he'd never be getting back into this bed. Would knowing have changed how he left it?

I stand back up, approaching his dresser. There's a stack of what were once folded pants, and are now a precariously balanced pile of cloth falling out in every direction. A wooden jewelry box is next to it, lid open, displaying several necklaces. I'm pretty sure it was my moms before my dad started using it. I run a hand over it before moving on. His nightstand holds a picture of mom and a ceramic handprint. It's something I made when I was little; I can't believe he still has it all these years later. Well, _had_ it. The closet is bursting with clothes that are arranged perfectly to make them all fit. I don't think I could replace anything if I removed it.

I turn my gaze on Kyoya, waiting in the doorway, and then look one final time around the room. It's nothing but clothes I'll never fit into, trinkets I'll never use, and pointless beautifying products. I push my way past Kyoya. "Donate it all. I don't want it." None of it matters anymore. It's not dad's anymore and it's not mine, so they _do_ have every right.

"Are you sure?" Kyoya is skeptical. I don't answer because I'm _not_ sure. But I can't say that. I just want to be done with this. I walk down the hall and out the front door. Leaning over the railing of the front walkway I spot a waiting limo. I have no doubt it's Kyoya's, and head down to it. The driver rushes out when he realizes who I am, but I beat him to the door. I open it myself, and close it behind me, ignoring his apology. Not a single glance is spared for my apartment as I await Kyoya.

It takes ten minutes for him to join me, time probably spent giving more instructions to the workers. "Take us home," he tells the driver, before turning to me. "Haruhi-" I turn away from him, preferring to spend the ride looking through the window. Kyoya doesn't try to say anything else.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I unpack my shrine immediately upon being shown to my new room. I then manage to spend a majority of my time sitting in front of it, as if I never left my apartment. To my relief, the boys leave me alone the first couple of days. Maids knock on my door with food trays, and when I don't answer they put it down outside my room. Kyoya eventually brings it in for me and exits without a word. By the second day he must've ordered them to bring it in for me, as they now leave a tray on my desk several times a day. I hardly notice any of it happening. I can't even tell you what color the duvet on my new bed is, having not spared a glance for it. The floor in front of my shrine is plenty comfortable.

In his own home, Kyoya finally starts acting normal around me again. He says what's needed and doesn't bother with unnecessary chatter. After four days here, Kyoya finally decides I need a tour of the house and forces me out of my room. The expedition (because 'tour' seems much too uncouth for someone of Kyoya's upbringing) is overly long, as is required by a large estate such as this. I hardly pay any attention to it, lost in my own thoughts as one superfluous room blends into the next. I'm pretty sure tomorrow is Monday, though I can't say how I know. I haven't looked at a calendar in ages. Why would I when the passage of time means nothing? All future time exists without my dad. It's not fair that the world keeps spinning.

At one point we come upon Kyoya's father in the hall. It's the first I've seen him since moving in, though admittedly that's probably because of my own seclusion. I thank him for allowing my presence in his home, but it doesn't sound as sincere as is proper. I miss _my_ home. My parent's home. He mumbles something about being happy to have me and that it's no trouble at all as he hurries by. He seems like the type that works more often than not, which is just about the best quality anyone could have right now, if you ask me. It means he's one less person I have to deal with worrying about me.

Kyoya ends our exercise in futility by guiding me to his room where the other hosts are waiting. I receive too many hugs and return too little before sitting on the side of the room out of the way, and hopefully, out of mind. They banter with each other and try to pull me into the conversation relentlessly, only to fail each time. Maybe they'll get the hint if I keep my silence. They generally don't, so maybe I shouldn't get my hopes up.

When they're all saying farewells I stand up too. "Bye. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

Their reactions are predictable. There's shock and wide-eyed stares, though if it's because I finally said something or because of _what_ I said, I have no idea. I guess it could always be both. At least for some of them. Tamaki proclaims it to be entirely too soon for me to return and why don't I just stay home a while longer? Who is he to tell me when I should go back? Life goes on, right? It has to. And not to mention this isn't really a "home" I'm staying in.

The others echo his sentiments, but I just repeat my intentions. I have to return eventually, so why not now. It won't make a difference if I wait another week or month. It won't bring him back.

I trek down to the kitchen (I guess Kyoya's tour brought about one good thing) after they're all gone to have a snack. I still don't have an appetite, but I know I can't keep depriving my body. I won't survive a stressful day of school without energy.

The next morning, Kyoya is waiting for me by the front doors. "You don't have to do this, yet. No one's forcing you." If he were a more emotional person, I would say he sounds concerned.

"Yes I do. I've missed two weeks already. I can't get more behind." I slide into the waiting limo tired of this conversation. I'm sick of hearing that I need more time. What do they know of what I need? I _need_ a distraction from my thoughts. I _need_ to keep myself busy so my every thought and action isn't centered around what I've lost. I _need_ to find a way to move on, and that's not going to happen within these walls.

Kyoya slides in beside me and the driver starts the short journey to Ouran. When we arrive, he grabs my wrist gently before I can open the door. I almost want to yell in frustration. Or maybe I should growl. If human speech isn't getting across then perhaps the mannerisms of a beast would do the trick. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's not too late to change your mind, Haruhi."

I take a slow, calming breath as I clench and unclench my fists. He's worried. I know they all are. I should be thankful to have such caring friends. Mostly, I'm just annoyed. Meeting his gaze I say as clearly as I can, "Yes. I need to." He nods and frees my wrist. Let's hope that's the end of that.

Hikaru and Kaoru are waiting just inside the entrance and immediately flank me when I walk through the doors. They don't ask me if I really want to be here or if I'm sure I don't want to stay home a few days longer. Instead, they continue what they've been trying to do since the funeral: cheer me up. Jokes are tossed back and forth and they poke fun at me like old times. I quirk the side of my mouth up in a half smile, needing to give them something for their efforts. In class they take turns passing me little notes, mostly making fun of whatever the topic of discussion is. It's the kind of behavior that used to piss me off because I strive to be a good student. Now...I do need to get back to my studies, but I just can't completely focus on the droning voice in the front of the class. Their distraction is almost nice.

At every break they're by my side with a never ending stream of chatter, and the other hosts join in during lunch. Their constant presence helps keep everyone else away. I think at some point throughout the day every single one of my classmates and most of the guests of the host club try to approach me, but they can't get a word in edgewise. Not that many of them even try. For one, it's rude to interrupt, and Hikaru and Kaoru never leave an opening. But moreso, I think it's because of the glares they send to anyone coming near when they think I'm not looking.

And they don't seem to require my involvement. They include me in their conversations, but don't expect my participation, content to keep talking in my stead. As they walk me to the Ootori's waiting limo at the end of the day, I realize how grateful I am for their actions. I stop before getting in, turning to face their questioning looks.

I look to Hikaru first, and wrap him in a hug. I know he's surprised when he takes a second to return my embrace, but he does, squeezing me tight, and it's not the worst feeling in the world. I let go and do the same to Kaoru, who's more ready than Hikaru. When I pull away I grab one of each of their hands and lock eyes with each. "Thank you for today. You guys were wonderful." And I don't even know if they understand why, but I need them to know I appreciate their efforts. I can't say they succeeded in cheering me up with their antics, but they certainly made what could have been a horrible day bearable.

Their smiles are more genuine and warm than I've seen all day as they wrap me in a group hug and speak together. "Anytime, Haruhi."

::::::

This house is too big. It's a daily thought now. If I bothered to leave my room on my own for more than food I'm sure I'd get lost. Kyoya's room is only two doors down, so I can at least find him if I need to. I never need to. My room is almost as big as my apartment was, and with much nicer furnishings. I even have my very own bathroom. There's really no need to leave other than school, but the other hosts aren't satisfied with that.

They're all here again. Why can't I have just a shred of peace? It's been nearly two weeks of this behavior, and I can't seem to make them understand that their presence is _really_ not necessary. Club activities have been put on hold indefinitely, despite my insistence that they continue without me. I plan to remain a host, even without a debt hanging over my head, but I need a little break from it. I just can't sit with our lovely guests and pretend that everything is alright day after day. But they apparently want to "help me through this transition in my life" and have been spending every day after school at the Ootori estate. More specifically, in _my_ room.

They would say that's my fault though. If I would only be willing to go elsewhere, they would happily leave my private space. But I'm not, so I refrain, once again, from complaining about their presence. It would just extend their visit.

As always, I ignore them as long as they'll allow. I keep my back to them as I start on my school work, siting in my nice leather rolling chair, at my beautiful new cherry wood desk. Together, the two probably cost more than most of the furnishings in my old apartment. The waste of money makes me sick. The hosts chatter among themselves for a time, but it doesn't last as long as I'd like.

"Haruhi! How about we go for a swim? Doesn't that sound fun?" Tamaki, enthusiastic as always, has come up behind me to spin my chair to face the group. If the sudden motion caused me to scribble on my paper like I think it did, he's going to pay for it.

"Not really," I answer, starting to swivel my chair back around. He doesn't let me turn very far, but it's not like I actually expected to.

"Aww come on, Haruhi! I promise it'll be fun!" He's said that about every new idea they've had and it hasn't proven true once. You can't blame me for writing it off this time as well. Writing it off...that's almost a pun considering my potentially ruined homework. Look at me being funny now; they would all be so proud. He's trying to tug me out of the chair now and I wrap my feet around the spinning leg to combat him. My glare doesn't seem to put him off.

"Then you pick something, Haruhi!" Kaoru suggests.

"Yeah, anything! Let's just go do something fun!" Hikaru agrees.

"Then go, already. I have homework." I swear we have a nearly identical conversation everyday. Honey will probably try to get me to eat something sweet next.

"You don't have that much homework, Haruhi! We're in the same class!" Kaoru isn't wrong.

"Then you know I have more than none, so that's what I'm doing."

"I brought a new cake today, Haru-chan! It's a strawberry lemonade cake! Strawberry for the cake, and lemon flavored icing! Will you try it with me?" And there it is. They really need to get new material.

"No, thank you, Honey-senpai." Tamaki finally allows me to whirl back to my desk where I find that my pen has marked the desk instead of my paper. I frown at the blemish on this perfect new desk and vow to find a way to fix it before any of the Ootori's see it and think I'm throwing their money away. I would never do that.

The guys go back to talking, and I tune them out. I'm sure they'll interrupt again soon so I have to finish as much as possible before they do. I've only written another paragraph when I see Kaoru out of my peripherals, crouched on my left side, head only as high as my elbow. I looked to the right, not surprised to find Hikaru in an identical position.

"Whatcha workin' on, Haruhi? History?" Kaoru asked slowly inching his hand towards my paper. I hit his fingers with my pen and don't answer.

"Hey, Haruhi, mind if I look something up in the text book?" Hikaru reaches for my open book and I knock his hand away.

"I do mind; I'm using that. You have your own." While I spoke, Kaoru's hand crept back onto the desk, and I didn't see it soon enough. He grabbed my paper and stood up, stepping out of reach. "Kaoru!"

"Oh this is very well written, Haruhi! It would be a tragedy if you had to redo all this hard work."

"Give it back, Kaoru." I stand up to face him, holding my hand out. When he doesn't hand it over I thrust my hand out for it, and he raises it into the air where I can't reach.

"Nuh uh Haruhi!" Hikaru walks up beside his brother to grab the paper, all the while wagging his finger at me. He glances at it and then back at me. "Oh this _is_ really well done. You wouldn't want something to happen to it, would you?"

I sigh, defeated. "Fine, what do you want?" Might as well get whatever it is over with.

They turn to each other and smile before looking back at me and intoning together, "We want you to come swimming!"

"Fine, I'll go swimming with you. Now give me back my paper." My hand is still out, waiting.

"Not until we're done!" Hikaru teases, lowering the paper to a reachable height and then lifting it back up when I lunge for it.

"Okay, fine." I turn to face the others with a huff, hand dropping to my side. "Where are we going swimming? The resort again? Did the problems get fixed?"

"No, the Ootori's have a pool right here! You didn't know?" Tamaki motioned in the general direction of said pool.

I shake my head. How could I know? I barely leave my room. Though it was probably mentioned during Kyoya's forced excursion. Maybe I should've paid more attention. "Well that's easier at least. Get out of my room so I can change."

They all oblige merrily, and for a moment after closing the door I consider locking it and barricading it to keep them out. Screw the paper, I have time to write a better one. But I can't do that to them, because I know they just want to help, even if they tend to do the exact opposite. I have to search a while to find one of the bathing suits Hikaru and Kaoru gave me. They unloaded a whole new wardrobe on me when I moved in here, but most of it I haven't touched. The one I grab is a bikini. It's frilly and pink and more girly than anything I would've bought myself, but I put it on anyway. With difficulty. Luckily (if you can call it that under the circumstances) it ties together instead of just being a slip on. I have to tighten the strings way past what's normal to get it to stay. I lost too much weight _after_ and still am not putting much effort into eating a healthy amount of anything. The swimsuit sits awkwardly on me, accentuating my too-bony hips and ribs more than anything, and I really doubt that's what Hikaru and Kaoru were going for when they decided to play dress up with me. It doesn't matter as long as the suit serves its purpose. I find an over-sized shirt to throw on over it and open my bedroom door.

Kyoya is the only one waiting. "The others went on down to change. Shall we join them?"

"They all just happened to have suits to change into?" I ask as we walk, now skeptical that this was a spontaneous idea.

"They all keep an extra suit here, just in case." Of course they did.

When we arrive at a set of glass doors, I'm surprised to realize we're near the kitchen. I really should've seen the pool one of the many times I passed by. Kyoya holds a door open for me, and I'm left slightly awed when I step through. Except for the wall attaching the large room to the house, every wall is glass. The high pointed ceiling is also glass, allowing for a beautiful view of the colorful sky as the sun starts to set. It reminds me of a greenhouse. The temperature is warmer than the rest of the Ootori estate, denying the cold winter outside.

With just a glance, I'm pretty sure the pool is Olympic size, if not Olympic depth. The end of the pool closest to the entrance is the deep end, measuring twelve feet, and sports a spring diving board just above the water level. There are several adjustable lounge chairs around the edge of the pool, each with a towel laying in wait. Several are occupied with the other host's things. They're already rough housing in the water, making entirely more noise than necessary. There were straight backed chairs too, sitting around tables that held umbrellas.

Kyoya let me take it all in for a minute before drawing my attention. "There are changing rooms and bathrooms in the hall just opposite the door." He gestured back the way we came. "You can use them in the future so you don't have to walk through the whole house like that."

I glance down at myself, frowning. My large shirt is covering everything, so it wasn't like I was exposing myself to the whole house. "Is there something wrong with how I look?" I'm not offended, just genuinely curious.

"No. I only meant if it was uncomfortable. You're free to walk around as you wish, Haruhi. This is your home too." Kyoya walks away from me after that, removing his glasses and shirt and tossing them on an empty chair. He jumps into the pool near the others, splashing them.

"Come on Haru-chan! It's not cold!" Honey waves me over, eager as the rest for me to have some fun.

I pick a chair next to the others and take my shirt off. If I were deaf, the sudden lack of laughs and shouts from the hosts might've gone unnoticed. But I'm not, and when an overly rambunctious group goes from making concert-level noise to dead silence, it's hard not to worry. I whip around to face them, afraid they've all drowned simultaneously or been abducted by aliens, because of course only tragic things come to mind right now. They're all fine though, and staring straight at me.

And the silence now makes sense. A few months ago it would've been because they're hormonal teenage males, seeing me in a bikini for the first time. I'm not stupid. But now, I don't know if their stares are more because of the lack of meat on my bones. Is it really that surprising though? They've all hugged me, and touched (probably reassuringly?) on the arm more times than I care to remember, so how could they have missed the differences? I roll my eyes and let them look. It doesn't matter to me if or why they stare, the same way eating enough and happiness don't matter anymore. None of it matters. I head for the diving board, pausing once I've climbed the two steps up to it.

"Haruhi! Are you sure you want to do that?" Tamaki extends a hand to stop me. The others look worried as well. Do they think I can't swim? Or that I look so fragile now that I'll break when I hit the water? I scoff and shake my head, disbelieving. You can't break what's already shattered.

I walk towards the board's edge and bounce twice to give me some air. I arch forward into a simple swan dive and feel the water enclose around me as I pierce the surface. The water is warmer than I expect; it must be heated. I hold myself under water for a moment, relishing in the feeling. I haven't been swimming in years, and it feels surprisingly nice to be surrounded by water again. I come up for air to find the over-zealous hosts clapping and cheering. I'm almost surprised my suit is still clinging to me. I swim over to them, no longer completely dreading this activity.

"That was amazing, Haruhi!" Kaoru praises.

"We didn't know you could do that!" Hikaru joins.

"It was just a simple dive," I say, treading water by them. It wasn't anything fancy, and I doubt any of them couldn't do the same.

"No, it was a beautiful dive, Haruhi! So graceful! So elegant!" Tamaki swims closer to wrap me in a hug that I really don't want. I bet now that he's noticed my thin figure it's easier to feel my bones jutting into him.

"I haven't done it in awhile, and I over-rotated. My feet almost flew past my head." Did they not see how much my dive had flopped?

Kyoya shakes his head, smiling. "Leave it to Haruhi to find fault with the first fun thing she's volunteered to do."

I frown, and finally slip through Tamaki's grasp, down into the water. There are perks to being small. A few kicks later I resurface by Mori. "I didn't know you were such a good swimmer, Haru-chan!" Honey is in an inner tube and I'm a little jealous that he's not having to work to stay afloat like I am. The group isn't far enough towards the shallow end for me to stand. I reach out and latch on to take a break. Honey smiles knowingly.

"My mom taught me when I was little. She was a great swimmer. Dad kept taking me through the first half of middle school. I haven't been since then." I frown at the thought. Maybe I don't want to swim after all.

They must be onto my train of thought because out of the blue, water is being splashed everywhere and I let go of Honey's floaty. "Water fight!" Hikaru and Kaoru yell together. I drop under the surface to avoid the flying water, intending to swim away from the action. Kyoya grabs my leg before I can get anywhere, forcing me back up, straight into a splash from Tamaki.

I don't know how to feel about that. Angry for having been splashed? Indignant for being used as a human shield? Annoyed at being here at all? I settle for vengeful. Facing Tamaki, I start forcing as much water through the air towards him as quickly as I can. Smiling, Hikaru and Kaoru join me in a war against the King.

Tamaki sinks below the surface, admitting defeat. Needing new targets, Hikaru rotates to his left to attack Honey and Kyoya, while Kaoru only needs to half turn to get Mori and me. We retaliate, not accepting defeat. When Tamaki shows himself he's laughing as much as the Hitachiins. Unable to decide which fight to join, he settles for sending a few splashes at Hikaru then switching to Kaoru. Speeding the battle along, Mori dunks Kaoru underwater, effectively ending his assault.

"Cheater!" Hikaru yells, noticing his brother's defeat. Kaoru resurfaces, laughing and sending us a huge grin. The side of my mouth quirks up momentarily, glad that they're enjoying themselves. Just because I'm depressed doesn't mean they shouldn't have fun.

Honey splashes over to me in his inner tube, smiling. He directs my arm to his tube, and starts swimming to the shallower end of the pool. It's still four and a half feet deep, but at least I can finally stand. Honey can as well, and removes his flotation device, lobbing it onto the dry edge of the pool. "So, you're a good swimmer Haru-chan. Wanna race?" He backs up against the edge, putting a foot against the pool wall behind him.

I shrug, why not? I copy his stance, and look at him for the signal to start. "We'll just do freestyle, 'kay? And first one past them wins!" Still smiling, Honey turns back to the others, still in the middle of the pool, and yells, "Hey, Takashi! Wait a few seconds and then say 'go'!" Mori nods his understanding, and the whole group shifts their attention to us.

"Go."

I push off and the splash at my side tells me Honey has done the same. Our friends are yelling, cheering I think, for whoever they want to win. It reminds me of my mom, cheering when I learned a new stroke, encouraging me to keep at it and get better. The memory brings purpose to each of my movements as I decide _I want to win_.

But I don't. As soon as I recognize I've passed the finish line I pop my head up to find Honey, already having finished and smiling at me apologetically. I had spent too much of the race not caring enough to try, that my sudden aspiration and speed became pointless.

"Let's go again," I state, swimming back to the start before anyone has a chance to react. Honey joins me, his smile somehow different. Softer, maybe.

We look towards the others, and they're smiling too. "You've got this Haruhi!" Tamaki yells. "Take him down!"

When Mori says "Go" this time, I push off from the wall with everything I've got. I force myself forward as fast as I can, putting everything I can into each stroke. Honey only barely beats me this time, and I'm glad he hasn't just let me win. "Again? Backstroke this time." It's been so long since I swam, I want to see how rusty I am with each stroke.

"I want in!" Tamaki declares, making his way to the shallow end.

"Us too!" Hikaru and Kaoru add, following.

"Might as well all go," Kyoya reasons. Honey grins again as we all make our way to the end. We spread out evenly along the wall, this time facing it, our backs to the finish line. "To the other end, then?" No one disagrees with Kyoya's suggested distance. "Mori, if you'll do the honors."

After a few long seconds of anticipation, Mori tells everyone to go, and we push off. I feel clumsy in the water with this stroke. It was never my best. At some point, I veer off course, swimming straight into Tamaki. He grunts as my arm comes down on his stomach and he's forced below the surface.

"I'm so sorry, senpai! I didn't mean to." But he laughs, brushing off my apology. I don't see what's so funny; I could've really hurt him.

Out of the race now, we watch the others. Kaoru makes a similar mistake to my own, nearly running into Hikaru, who kicks out with his foot, trying to fend off his twin. It catches Kaoru's leg, twisting their limbs together, and leaving them sputtering out water and laughing. And seeing it happen to someone else? I can kind of see the humor in it now. My mouth attempts to quirk up again before quickly dropping.

Kyoya wins the race by a good distance. I can hear Mori's congratulations, and see Honey's surprise. I don't find it surprising though. This is Kyoya's pool after all, and I don't think any of the others have one. He's probably spent a lot more time in the water than anyone else. Honey's athleticism can only help him so far.

Spread wide across the pool, everyone makes their way back to the shallow end and Tamaki asks what I want to do this time. "Butterfly." It used to be my favorite stroke, if not my best. I always got a kick out waving my feet through the water like I was a dolphin. Heh, 'kick.' Maybe they're starting to bring my sense of humor back after all.

I'm only half way across the pool when I feel myself slowing down. I forgot just how many muscles it took to do the butterfly - to swim in general, really - and I'm not in as good of shape as I could be. Everyone reaches the end this time without incident. Kyoya wins again, followed by Mori and then Honey. Kaoru and then Hikaru are next, though Kyoya questions the legitimacy of their placement.

"Whatever you two were doing, it wasn't the butterfly stroke. Some convoluted mash of the butterfly with the breaststroke, maybe. If I had finished faster I'm sure I would've seen other strokes thrown in as well. As such, you two lose this round."

That moved my placement up after Honey, which I feel is respectable. Tamaki comes in last, looking as exhausted as I feel. Apparently him and the twins didn't so a lot of swimming growing up.

After a few minutes of resting in the water, everyone's ready to start the breaststroke. "I think I'll sit this round out," Kaoru announces.

"Me too. We'll be judges this round." Hikaru and Kaoru hoist themselves out of the water and walk down to the shallow end to wait for us. Hikaru has the honor of yelling 'go' this time. Kyoya wins again, big surprise there, and Honey is second this time. He seems pleased at having beat his cousin this round, after losing to him in the previous. Kaoru announces that I tied Mori for third, but I seriously doubt the validity of the call. Mori doesn't seem to mind my stealing any of his limelight though, so I don't question it. Tamaki is last again, but smiles anyway, enjoying spending time with us.

I'm envious of that smile. Even in last place, Tamaki is happy. I did better than him in every round, not counting backstroke, and I still feel like a failure. I feel like I'm letting my parents down, wasting all their time and effort teaching me. And the fact that I'm disappointed just makes me feel worse! I've never been a sore loser.

"Haru-chan you did so great! I can't believe it's been years since you've been swimming!" Honey is splashing around in front of me, and I'm thankful for his reminder.

"Thanks, Honey-sempai." I manage a small smile because he's right. It's been _years_ since I've done anything like this. I should really try to focus on my ability to finish each lap, rather than my speed in doing so. That focus might take some work.

The rest of our time in the water is more relaxed. At one point they decide to show off their diving abilities to me, and take turns doing anything but dive. Mostly it seems to be a competition of who can make the biggest splash without doing a cannonball, of which there are plenty.

All-in-all, I have to say it was a successful evening. The other hosts all had a great time, and even managed to coerce a few smiles from me. Maybe it will get them off my back a little. Then again, their not-so-covert frowns every time I hoisted myself out of the water make me think just the opposite.

* * *

 **A/N:** The next chapter is partially written already, so it shouldn't take me too long to post it for you guys. Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The next day they decide to re-open the host club, and they want me to participate. I guess showing them I can splash around makes me a normal person again. My usual customers flock to me, eager to give their condolences. Each group, one after another, can't wait to tell me how sorry they are for my loss, or ask how I'm doing, or offer themselves up if I ever want to talk. They can't wait to touch my arm or hold my hand to console me. It's all they want to talk about, regardless of how hard I try to change the subject. I thank them and provide assurances that I'm okay and that I appreciate their offers. I smile as convincingly as I can and make excuses of pouring tea or getting snacks to remove myself from their grasp.

Three days of this pass before anyone wants to have a normal conversation again. They readily accept any compliments I offer and any smiles I send their way. I'm convinced they're buying into my false happiness until they stop requesting me a few at a time, and I realize I'm not fooling anyone. I revert to being an errand boy for the club, no longer a desirable host. For a moment I'm hurt by the slight, and then the relief comes. I enjoyed hosting, but faking it was miserable. Being in the background suits me better.

The day my position shifts, I decide to go swimming again. It's dark out, the host club is long gone, and my homework is done. Laying in my bed, staring at a ceiling I can't make out in the dark, I remember the feel of diving into the pool. The feel of the water all around me, the increasing pressure the deeper I swam. It's like being gently hugged everywhere at once, but better than an actual embrace because I don't have to deal with people to get it.

I change quickly and head down to the waiting water, not bothering to cover myself with a shirt this time. Let the staff look, I can't be bothered enough to care. The doors must have a motion sensor because as soon as I push them open the room lights up. It explains how I never noticed this extension of the house before. This room was practically a black hole before the lights flickered to life. I have nothing with me to drop off, so I go straight for the diving board. Soon after, the cool water is washing over me and I can forget everything.

I return to the pool a few times a week, sometimes daily, just to feel nothing. Mostly I swim laps back and forth until I'm too tired to continue and then just float on the surface. Some days I work on diving, exhilarated by the shock of air every time I hoist myself back out of the water. The days after my nightly excursions, my smiles feel a little less fake than the days where I don't swim. It becomes my haven.

::::::

The hosts have become over-bearing in their insistence that I eat more. Kyoya has taken it upon himself to insure his – ours, Haruhi. They're not just his anymore – kitchen staff has a hearty selection of breakfast foods available and waiting for me every morning. I take a bite or two so their efforts aren't completely wasted, and recommend they donate anything left to charity. It's such a waste of food otherwise. A couple times a week Tamaki shows up with fresh croissants and crepes, in case I'd prefer an authentic French breakfast to switch things up. It's easier to hurt _his_ feelings; he should be used to it by now.

My food selections are never good enough for Kyoya though. He usually grabs a piece of fruit and granola bar to force on me during the car ride to school. He's annoyingly adamant. The first few times I took a bite of the apple or banana or whatever and then _accidentally_ dropped the remainder on the floor of the car. Oh no, what's a girl to do? But then he started bringing a second fruit for just such a happenstance. Eventually, I got tired of fighting and just ate the damn fruit. Anything to be left alone. He let me get away with refusing the granola bar. At first.

At every short break between classes, Hikaru and Kaoru have coincidentally become ravenous all of a sudden. They pull out various treats and offer me some of everything. As soon as I open my mouth to turn them down or point out what they're obviously trying to do, one of them slips something into my mouth. Every. Time. After a week I decided to ignore them. If I don't open my mouth to speak to them, they can't sneak anything in, right? Wrong. They started coercing other classmates to come talk to me, which manners dictate I respond too. And therein lies their opening. Once, they were so daring as to shove something in _during_ class, when I was called on to answer a question. It's ridiculous.

I had to stop buying lunch all together. No matter how much food I pile onto my own tray, they all try to feed me some of theirs. Now I just let them each give me some of theirs, and don't bother wasting a whole other meal. This seems to satisfy them, and it's probably my most peaceful meal of the day.

Dinner has turned into a fiasco. There's no more eating quietly in my room after everyone goes home as I'd like. Now, my presence is _required_ in the dinning room every day where some type of feast awaits. It's always something different. Italian one day, French another, traditional Chinese or authentic American. There's a constant rotation of available food, and I feel like a science experiment. Or maybe the subject of a bet. I wonder who wagered I'd eat more Argentinian cuisine than Scottish? Or maybe it's a daily pool. Who puts their money on four bites, who picks six? Who thinks Haruhi will fight every bite from the get-go? I feel like a toy.

Honey always insists on dessert before the night ends. Luckily, the absolute horrible nutrition accompanying his choices allows me to get away with just a single bite before they all leave me alone. I stopped fighting that battle pretty much immediately. One bite I can handle.

::::::

Several weeks pass, aided by my new hobby. I'm here nightly now, whether I really have time to be or not. A quick dive announces my entrance to the water. I swim a ways under the surface, coming up just short of the middle. I do laps often, allowing my body to build muscle that I've lacked for so long. That, in addition to all the extra food, has really filled my body back out. At least so I'm not grotesque anymore. I should really suggest we go swimming again so they can all see that their plans have worked and that they can lay off now.

Laps don't sound appealing today, and I consider diving before dismissing that idea too.

Leaning back, I let my legs float to the surface and I lean back to lay atop the water. The moon is a bright gibbous overhead, though I have no idea if it's waning or waxing. I don't usually pay much attention to it. I want to see the stars surrounding it, but have no way of turning off the lights in here. Swimming by moonlight sounds nice, and I wish I could bask in the glow reflected off the water.

I close my eyes, blocking out all the lights and imagining myself surrounded by moonlight. I take a deep breath and then another, and after a third I slowly release every ounce of oxygen I can from my body, allowing myself to sink into the water. I keep trying to force air out until I finally hit the bottom of the pool. As I lay there spread eagle, I count. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand...I make it to ten before I can no longer concentrate on it. I clench my fingers into a fist, fighting the need to breathe. For a moment, I consider trying to breathe underwater. I mean, obviously I don't expect it to work, but that would kind of be the point. I could just breathe in the water, let my lungs fill, and stay here on the bottom of the Ootori's pool. I could let myself die. Is that the same as suicide? Is there enough of a difference between actively killing yourself versus not trying to save yourself? I really don't know. Either way, maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen. Actually, I _know_ it wouldn't be the worst thing. That's already happened. The others could finally move on with their lives if I just gracefully exited. They wouldn't have to waste their time failing to cheer me up or shoveling food down my throat anymore. The host club would operate how it used to, sans the natural host, and it would be like I never even existed. It would be good for them. I wouldn't be putting the Ootori's out anymore, because I'm sure they don't actually want me here. Mr. Ootori doesn't even know me. And I would get to be with my parents again. Isn't it fitting that I join them from the water, after having spent so much of my childhood in the water with them? I'd need someone more versed in the subject to be sure, but I think that seems down right poetic. My whole body is shaking now as I fight to remain in place and my head is pounding.

A splash in the water startles me into opening my eyes. I see Kyoya, fully clothed, swimming towards me, and open my mouth. To tell him to go away? To ask what he was doing here? To finally breathe? Whatever the reason, it was stupid of me. The water fills my lungs immediately and my body begins jerking, trying to fight off the sudden invasion. I try to push myself up toward the surface and my salvation, but I'm pretty sure I just slide closer to a wall. Why isn't my body listening to me? I'm going to drown. I can already feel the weakness seeping into my limbs as they stop flailing in the water. Kyoya's almost to me, but I don't feel like he'll make it in time. I've been without oxygen far too long. It's hard to keep my eyes open, and I feel them drift closed. Hikaru, Kaoru, Tamaki, Honey, Mori, and Kyoya flash through my head before everything goes blank.

::::::

I'm coughing, and it _hurts._ My lungs and throat are burning, and my chest feels bruised. I turn to my side, aided by someone's hands at my back, and continue coughing. It feels like I'm never going to stop, like there's just endless water stuck in my lungs and I'm doomed to painfully choke it up for the rest of my life. Oh god, my life? Memories of the bottom of the pool come rushing back and I jerk to a sitting position to look around. The pool is to my left and I stare at it, shocked. _I'm alive_.

The hands are still on my back, supporting me, and I realize Kyoya is saying something. "-to be alright, Haruhi. You're going to be fine." He repeats himself as he wraps a towel around my shoulders, and I clutch it around me, realizing I'm shivering. I can't say anything, a tickle at the back of my throat still causing me to cough occasionally. I look at him though, kneeling behind me. He's still fully dressed in Ouran's uniform - it's probably ruined now - head bowed to hide his face. I think his glasses are missing. I realize he jumped in to save me, ironically being the cause of my water intake in the process. I shake that thought away. Can I really blame him for causing something I was already considering? Maybe more than considering.

Finally, I feel like I can talk without a cough interrupting me. "What are you doing here?" Uh, he just saved me, obviously. I must have brain damage from going so long without oxygen. I should specify before he answers. What was he doing down here at the pool, still fully dressed? Or better yet, I really should thank him. Isn't that common place when someone saves your life?

Am I thankful?

"That was stupid, Haruhi. How could you do that?" He's not touching me anymore, one hand having gone to his hidden face, the other clenched on his knee.

"How could I…?" I'm not totally sure what he means. "I know what it looked like, but I didn't mean to need saving." Doesn't he know I don't tend to do things that rely on the aid of others? He must not be thinking straight either.

"No of course you didn't mean to be saved. You just wanted to kill yourself, right? Drown?" He's mad, voice cold and quiet, but with none of his usual control. I can only stare, shocked. "You're a good swimmer, Haruhi. I've seen it. Did you think we would assume it was an accident? That we wouldn't know you had killed yourself? Do you think that would've made it any better?" He pushes himself to a standing position and faces away from me. "How could you _do_ that to us?"

I stand too, a little wobbly, and try to grab his arm. I want to turn him to face me. He only pulls his arm away. "Kyoya, I didn't!"

"Only because I happened to walk by and see you, Haruhi!" He's finally yelling, and I don't know if that's better or worse than when he was speaking quietly. He spins back to me, grabbing my shoulders and shaking them. "You can't do that ever again! Do you understand?"

"I wasn't trying to kill myself!" I finally yell, hoping it'll calm him down. Maybe if I say it enough, I'll believe it too.

"Bullshit. What were you doing on the bottom of the pool then, Haruhi?"

"I just..." I don't know how to finish that sentence. What _was_ I doing there? "I guess I don't know. I just wanted to...feel it. Maybe? I mean, I didn't mean to Kyoya, not really. I just had to see what it was like. To know that you're going to die. To feel it coming and be helpless to do anything to stop it. To know what _they_ felt." I lower my own head in shame. Subconsciously, maybe I was trying to kill myself from the start. I'm rambling and I doubt if anything I've said is making sense to him. I have to try harder to explain what I'm thinking. My voice quavers as I continue. "They both knew death was coming, before. It wasn't fast; they suffered. I needed to know." I'm shaking harder now, and not just from the cold air hitting my wet flesh. I can hear myself pleading with Kyoya to understand what happened. I _didn't_ want to kill myself. He had to understand.

Then, Kyoya's pulling me against him, wrapping his arms around me in a hug. I return the embrace, eyes starting to water, but I refuse to cry. We stand there for a long time, holding onto each other for dear life. And maybe that's more literal than it should be.

Finally, he breaks the silence. "You should've talked to me, Haruhi. Or one of the others. Or hell, there are professionals." Under his breath it sounds like he's berating himself for not making me see a shrink sooner. Like in some convoluted way he's at all responsible for _any_ of this. "You're not alone in this."

I can't agree. I _know_ that the other hosts are all there for me if I need them. But I _am_ alone. That's the very definition of a sibling-less orphan. I have no one. Both sets of grandparents are dead, no aunts or uncles on either side. How can anyone possibly say I'm not alone?

"Promise me you won't do something like this again, Haruhi." There's something akin to desperation in his voice, begging my cooperation. God, I want to promise him that. I _don't_ want to die! But I didn't want to die before I jumped in the pool either. Did I? I'm really not sure anymore. How can I make a promise that might go out the window at the very next life-threatening opportunity? Maybe the fact that I'm referring to it as an _opportunity_ is hint enough of my future plans. I remain silent, but somehow, I believe Kyoya knows exactly what I'm thinking.

He lets out a breath and pulls away from me, hands resting on my shoulders. He's finally looking at me for the first time since I gained consciousness. His eyes are red, and it makes my eyes well up again. I really hurt him. "At least promise that you'll come talk to one of us first, okay? If you have even the slightest thought of hurting yourself, Haruhi, you have to talk to someone. Anytime. I don't care if I'm dead asl-" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "I mean if I'm in a deep sleep." I realize he didn't like his choice of words the first time. "Wake me up, Haruhi. Okay?"

I nod. "Haruhi!" He's demanding an actual response.

"I promise." I look away, unable to handle the pain in his eyes anymore. "But it won't happen again. It won't." I shake my head, trying to convince myself as much as him. He finally lets go of me, walking to grab his glasses which had been discarded on the ground, and a towel.

"Let's go get dried off. We'll both catch a cold if we stay like this." He heads toward the main house, and I reach for his arm to stop him.

"Don't tell anyone, senpai. Please." I couldn't stand it if they knew what I almost did. They would start treating me like a fragile glass doll, even more so than they already do. I don't want my mistake to ruin everything. Kyoya just looks at me wordlessly. "Promise me!"

But he won't make that promise, or can't, maybe. He turns to open the door and then faces me again. "Let's go, Haruhi." He waits until I join him to leave the pool room. He doesn't want to leave me alone here. Honestly, I can't blame him for that.

::::::

Each time I see one of my friends, I brace myself. Is this it? Are they finally going to say something? I watch them throughout every encounter, looking for any sign that Kyoya has spilled the beans. As far as I can tell, no one knows. There isn't any sidelong looks to check on my sanity or worried glances. None of the other hosts are treating me delicately, or at least, no more than usual. There hasn't been a single "are you okay?" or "do you want to talk about it?" from any of them all day. As the day and club activities come to an end, I breathe a silent sigh of relief. Maybe everything will be alright.

We all leave the club together to head home, Kyoya and I slidding into the Ootori limo, and the others riding in their own cars. They'll all likely meet us shortly, probably in my room. Kyoya opens his laptop to work during the short journey. I glance at him and then at his hands moving across the keyboard. My eyes slide to my own lap where I'm clenching my hands tightly together, and then back to look at Kyoya. His head never moves as his eyes flick towards me and then back down.

"Something I can help you with?" I'm surprised by the tone of his voice: neutral, calculating as always. I really shouldn't have expected anything else just because he sounded so foreign the previous night. Just because he saved my life.

He's still clacking away at his keyboard and I look back down at my lap. "I just wanted to say thank you."

"For?" His eyes are still on the computer screen, taking in whatever data is displayed there. I wish he would look at me when he talks sometimes.

"For not telling the others." I feel like that should be obvious. What else could I possibly be thanking him for?

Oh. For saving me. I'm surprised he didn't just assume it was that. Maybe he didn't notice my failure to thank him. Or he misremembered. People do that all the time. They think something happened because they _expect_ _ed_ it to, but in reality it never did. Do I really think it's possible for that to happen to Kyoya of all people? Not a chance.

He glances at me again out of the corner of his eye, and part of me thinks he's going to play dumb, acting like there is nothing to tell. "Perhaps you shouldn't thank me for something you can't be sure of." My eyes go wide. _Did_ he tell someone? He couldn't have! There's no way any of them would've been able to hide it if they knew!

My thoughts start racing through the possibilities. Maybe he didn't tell them all, if he told anyone. He could just be trying to rile me up. If Hikaru knew, he'd be throwing himself all over me, even more than usual. Kaoru might be able to hold his reaction together, but would he be able to hide the knowledge from his brother? I can see the hurt expression Honey would throw my way if he knew. Could he hide that? And then there's Mori, who hardly shows any emotion at all. But Mori says a lot without words in his body language and the way he looks at things...he didn't seem out of the ordinary. The king? If there's a good actor among the hosts, Tamaki would be it. He's so hyper and happy-go-lucky most of the time, but when he's hosting, he's charming and refined. But he's never hidden his emotions from me; could he hide this? Would he want to? Would any of them, if they knew? Did Kyoya talk them out of turning it, me, into a big deal? I haven't cared about something this much in a long time. I don't know how to handle it.

"Who knows?" I want to demand an answer out of him - don't I have the right to know? - but I barely whisper my inquiry, afraid of his response, and perhaps more afraid of his silence.

He doesn't respond. Maybe he was just freaking me out after all. No one else knows, and he won't tell them. Hopefully.

The rest of the ride is filled with the sound of Kyoya typing as I convince myself there's nothing to worry about. I have to put this whole thing behind me and move on. At the Ootori estate, crowded into my room once again, I continue watching them anyway. Just in case.

::::::

It only takes me two days to return to the scene of the almost-crime. Not to swim, but to observe. I sit in a chair, knees raised, and wrap my arms around them, staring at the pool. I watch the subtle movement of the water and listen to the quiet lapping of the vents as the water filters through the system. It's a calming sound.

I'm so still that the lights eventually flicker out, having not detected any motion lately. Unfortunately, being plunged into darkness has a tendency to make a person jump, which I did, turning the lights back on as soon as they've shut off. I curse under my breath, wishing I could be in that darkness. There's something comforting about it - not knowing what your surroundings hold. You could take a step forward into your death without even knowing it was coming. That has to be better, right? Not seeing it coming?

I violently shake that thought away and quickly stand up. I can't leave the room fast enough.


	4. Chapter Four

**A/N:** There's a scene in this chapter that I'm really scared of your reaction to. I thought of changing it. I nearly switched out characters. In the end, I decided to go with how I initially envisioned it. Hopefully, you guys can understand how desperation and kindness could bring this about. Let me know how you feel!

* * *

Chapter Four

Winter has been unseasonably long this year. It started early and has held on as long as possible, but the weather is finally starting to lighten up. Ouran is hosting a carnival to celebrate, though if the frigid temperature hadn't let up I'm sure they would've found another excuse to throw it. The boys are really excited, forcing me to join them in the festivities.

It's not all bad, I guess. Mori displays impeccable aim, hitting several consecutive too-small targets to win a stuffed giraffe. Why a giraffe, I have no idea, but he immediately offers it to me. It's green with blue polka dots, a delicate purple bow around its neck. It's silly but kind of cute, and I smile in gratitude. Smiling is easier now, over four months after the accident, if still mostly falsified. If the hosts have noticed my lack of genuine expressions, they don't say anything.

It seems like we've hit every food stand available, everyone trying bites of each other's treats. Even Honey is happy to share his sweets, knowing he can just buy another if needed. They've finally given me some freedom to select and eat my own food, but I try some of everything, anyway. Food stands always make things look tasty. The boys compete in various games as I watch. It's not surprising when Honey or Mori win every single time. Hikaru demands they do something more suited to the less athletic members.

"Bumper cars!" He points to a sign we're quickly approaching. "This is it Kaoru! We'll take them down for sure!" Hikaru runs ahead to jump in line, immediately followed by his twin. Their grins must be infectious, because Tamaki is quick to mirror the expression as he chases them.

The rest of us approach at a more leisurely pace. Kyoya adjusts his glasses as a sly smile slides into place. "You honestly believe you've got this one in the bag, don't you?" His question is directed to the two still smiling devilishly. Bumper cars _is_ their type of activity, so I don't blame their confidence, but I decide to be the voice of reason.

"You know there's not really a _winner_ in bumper cars, right? Everyone gets hits by everyone else..." I trail off at Kaoru's eye roll.

"The way we play, there will definitely be a winner." The younger twin seems eager to prove.

"And that winner is going to be us!" Hikaru claims, tossing an arm around his brother's shoulders.

I copy Kaoru, rolling my eyes, and start to turn away from the group. "Well, go nuts. I think I'll sit this one out." Whiplash from all directions? No, thank you.

Someone is quick to grab my free hand before I can detach myself from the hosts. I glance back at Honey who laces his fingers through mine, firmly attaching himself to me. "I don't wanna play either. Let's go do something together, okay Haru-chan?" He walks past me, swinging our connected arms back and forth and pulling me along.

Hikaru and Tamaki sputter at the injustice and attempt to follow, but Mori is ready with a taunt. "Don't think you can beat me, after all?" None of them are going to back down from that, and Honey and I escape without incident.

He skips along beside me, keeping our arms at a constant sway. I hold my new giraffe close, afraid of dropping it with all the unnecessary jostling Honey causes. His chatter is inconsequential nonsense with plenty of mentions of getting more sweets before we leave the carnival. We aren't walking long when we come upon the Ferris wheel. It's not huge, being a temporary set-up for the weekend, but it still matches the school for height. Honey insists we go for a ride and I don't object. The ride will probably be the only relaxing thing I get to do all night.

We wait our turn to be ushered into a two-person seat, Honey finally forced to let go of my hand as he motions for me to climb onto the seat first. I secure my stuffed animal (I really should name him) in my lap and the safety bar is lowered. The ride jerks us backwards as the next available seat comes to rest at the platform, allowing the next riders to step up. There's only one more to fill before the ride starts in earnest. Honey grabs my hand again, throwing it into the air along with his free one.

"Isn't this fun, Haru-chan?" He laughs, I smile. My mouth falls quickly though, watching the cheerful upperclassman. I wish I could feel so carefree. I wish I could enjoy something so simple as this sluggish ride.

As we round the top Honey points off to the side, grabbing my attention. "Look! The others are already done knocking each other around." I follow his finger to find the other five hosts horsing around outside the cars. "Kyo-chan looks smug, doesn't he Haru-chan?" He turns to face me, smile still plastered on his face. I want to know his joy. Or Kyoya's apparent smugness. Anything positive.

I nod my agreement and divert my attention from our friends. Colorful lights from every stand illuminate the carnival. Children are running around, screams of delight reaching all corners of the event. It should be beautiful.

"It's beautiful from up here, huh Haru-chan?" Honey echos my thoughts and I turn to face him again. His smile is soft, easy. We've done a full rotation and are starting to ascend again.

His words remind me of exactly where we are. We're all alone, riding close together on what many consider to be a romantic ride, taking in the beautiful scenery, while holding hands. I search his face, wondering if the situation we've found ourselves in was planned. I toss that idea out; Honey isn't diabolical like that. But here we are. And the smallest host is still looking at me, head cocked, waiting for my answer.

Instead of overthinking it, I lean forward and kiss him. My lips press against his and I feel his shock, so I guess that wasn't what he was expecting in this scenario at all. I pull away just slightly, still hovering in front of his face. "Har-" I don't let him get my name out before I kiss him again.

He doesn't react like I expect, like I would expect most guys to act. Aren't they supposed to want this type of thing? I'm basically throwing myself at Honey. What more can I do?

He disentangles our hands and places both of his on my shoulders, gently pushing me away. Rejecting me. I guess I can't blame him; I wouldn't want to kiss me either. I turn my head and slide my body as far away as the seat will allow, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Haru-chan...why? I didn't think..." He trails off and I know he's studying me, trying to figure me out. What's to figure out?

"Just forget it, senpai. It doesn't matter." It was a stupid mistake and I won't make it again. Relying on others to bring me happiness is just foolish. But isn't that exactly what they've all been aiming for?

"It does matter. Please look at me, Haru-chan." I can hear the frown in his voice, adding guilt to my embarrassment and shame. He slides closer to me as the ride finally stutters to a stop. We'll be nearly the last to exit.

His hand falls on my arm, trying to coax my attention. I squeeze my giraffe (Greg? Gunther? I definitely want a 'G' name), hoping that he'll notice I'd really like to keep to myself right now. "Talk to me, Haru-chan, please. Why did you kiss me? Did I-" he takes a breath, surprising me with his unease. "Did I lead you to think…? I'm _sorry,_ Haru-chan." Anguish fills his every syllable. Why are feelings so easily transferable to everyone but myself? "I've always thought of you as a sister. I didn't mean to-"

I cut him off. "It's fine, senpai. You didn't do anything. I said forget it." It comes out harsher than I mean, but I don't want to listen to him blame himself for my harebrained actions.

"I can't forget it! Do you _like_ me, Haru-chan? Is that why?"

The Ferris wheel rocks into motion again and jerks to a stop to let the next group exit. I turn my head to him, surprised by his chain of thought. "No." Maybe I should've sugar-coated that? Or at least clarified _like_?I'm sure people would much rather hear that they're liked than not. "I guess I was just using you. Sorry." And it's true, and makes me feel worse. Honey doesn't deserve that, which makes me a horrible person. What if he didn't stop me, and I just led him on? What was I thinking? When the wheel jerks again I wonder if a fall from this height would be enough.

His face contorts into confusion. "I don't understand..." But of course he doesn't. I'm not exactly making sense. Who just kisses someone they don't even like? At least not like that.

I let my head fall back against the cool metal, arms going slack and hands falling to my lap. I stroke my new giraffe (maybe something rhyming with Mori. Gori? No, that's hideous), trying to find comfort in his plush fur. The car moves again before I answer. "I just wanted to feel...something. Anything. People who are _together_ seem happy, so I thought I'd try that." I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and look away again as his frown deepens. It's unnatural on him, and I'm the cause. Way to be a great friend, Haruhi. "I'm sorry, Honey-senpai. It was wrong of me to use you like that."

He grabs a hand from my lap, forcing my attention toward him. "It's okay, I understand. I didn't realize...do you not _feel_ anymore, Haru-chan? I've heard that sometimes people just go numb..." The way he asks makes it sound like the worst possibility he can imagine. I look away again, unable to face the sorrow I've caused him.

"Oh, I feel plenty." A short, self-deprecating laugh bubbles out. "I feel secluded, useless, ridiculous." I don't know why I'm telling him any of this but I can't stop. "There's shame, sorrow, stupidity..." my eyes slide to him again for the next admission, "...rejection." His eyes widen and I can clearly read from his face that he wants to deny his dismissal. As if I didn't just live it. I don't allow him to interrupt. "I can't remember the last time I didn't feel defeated." I shake my head slightly, looking away. We're almost back to the ground now.

"But I shouldn't have tried to use you like that, so, again, I apologize for my actions." Can we drop it now?

"I didn't know, Haru-chan. I- _we_ thought you were doing a little better. I guess we were blind." He finally looks away from me as a sad smile takes over his face. "But I can understand why you did it...I was the safe choice, wasn't I?" I turn to him, eyes wide, intending on correcting him, though I know I'd be spouting lies. "No, it's okay. You couldn't try it on the others because you didn't want to lead on the ones you know are interested, and were probably afraid how the others might feel. Right? But I was safe because you knew I wouldn't take advantage, even if I did want you like that. I'm just the sweet little loli-shota."

"That's not- _you're_ not- you're more than that! Don't ever think of yourself as _just_ anything! I never meant to make you feel like that. I'm so sorry, senpai. I haven't been thinking straight for a while now. Not since Kyoya-" I cut myself off, shocked at having nearly spilled my darkest secret.

The Ferris wheel finally brings us to the platform, and I rush to stand up. I want to escape, but Honey won't permit it. He grabs my hand again, briskly pulling me away from the ride and from where we last spotted our friends. We find a bench stashed away from the heart of the excitement and he pulls me down allongside him. He grabs my other hand as well, sending my giraffe (Galen. I think I read that it means 'calm' in Greek or something. It's perfect. Calm like Mori, and maybe it'll bring some calm into my life) tumbling to the ground and forcing me to face him.

"Since what, Haru-chan? Tell me what happened. Did Kyoya do something to you? Did he hurt you?" His face has turned murderous and I recall him pummeling an entire police force.

"No! Nothing like that. You don't need to hurt him." I try to take my hands back, wanting to use them to calm him down (maybe I should give _him_ Galen), but his grip tightens slightly, refusing to be placated.

"You don't have to defend him, Haruhi." It's the first time he's ever said my full first name, and I know how seriously he's taking this. "You don't have to deal with him alone anymore. I can protect you."

Touched, my eyes start to water and I blink them furiously, trying to regain my composure. Honey isn't going to be satisfied until he knows what happened, and I can't lie to him. Not now. Not after what I did. Not when all he wants is to defend my honor because of how much he cares. He doesn't deserve it. Why did I have to kiss him?

I take a deep breath, looking away from my fellow host. "Kyoya...saved me." Honey's grip loosens as he begins to relax, though not enough for me to pull away. "I-" I take a few deliberately slow breaths, trying not to hyperventilate. "I tried to kill myself." It's barely a whisper and I'm not even sure he's heard it until he's pulling me into his arms. He hugs me tight, and I return the embrace, increasing pressure when I realize he's not going to push me away.

It's the first time I've said it aloud. The first time I've admitted that which I tried so hard to deny and justify. I'm shaking and he holds me tighter. "It's okay, Haru-chan. It's going to be okay." How can he say that? Kyoya was furious with me after...isn't Honey mad? He should hate me. He should throw me away because I've proven I'm not worth his time. I'm a coward. I'm a failure. I tried to leave them all.

He holds me, whispering assurances until my shaking calms down to an occasional tremble. He pulls away, placing his hand on my shoulders and leaning his forehead against mine. He's been crying silently, unashamed as he looks straight into my dry eyes. "We'll get through this, Haru-chan. We'll all help you."

"No!" I pull away, my reaction unanticipated and therefore unhindered. "You can't tell anyone! Honey-senpai, please! I don't want them to know. I don't want everyone to hate me." Traitorous tears start building up again and I refuse to let them fall.

My outburst has Honey confused, calling a halt to his own tears. "None of the others would hate you...we love you, Haru-chan. Don't you get that yet?"

I shake my head, outright refusing his declaration. They _would_ hate me. _I_ hate me. "Promise me you'll keep my secret, senpai, please." I'll beg him if I have to. I'll get down on my knees and clench my hands together and I'll do whatever he wants. I couldn't get Kyoya to make this vow, but I have to get Honey to.

He frowns and looks down. "If that's what you really want, I won't tell the others. I promise." I launch myself at him, unable to help it. Even caught off guard he manages to catch me and wraps me in another hug.

"Thank you," I whisper, and he squeezes.

We don't break apart until our phones both start ringing. Mori is calling him, Tamaki me. They want to know where we've run off to and we agree on a meeting spot. I scoop Galen off the ground and Honey holds my hand again. The constant pressure is reassuring as we venture towards our club-mates.

"Haruhi!" I hear Tamaki before I see him, bracing myself for what's to come. He yanks me away from Honey, hugs me tight against himself and spins us in a circle. "I missed you! Where did you two disappear to?"

"We rode the Ferris wheel!" Honey exclaims, back to his cheerful self. Is he really back to normal, or is he just that good of an actor? Maybe I should ask for lessons.

"What! How could you ride the Ferris wheel with him, Haruhi!? That's a ride that girls should only ride with their family! Others might take advantage!" He's clutching me protectively to his side, and Honey only makes things worse.

"Are you jealous that we made out, Tama-chan?" His voice is teasing and I'm sure the others don't even believe the jest, but I drop my eyes to the ground, all but verifying Honey's joke.

Tamaki's mouth falls open and he's speechless, looking swiftly back and forth between us. Honey's grin falls as well when he notices my averted gaze. I want to tell him to stop letting me bring his mood down.

"What!? Tell us he's kidding, Haruhi!" Hikaru is demanding a response, stepping forward to… I don't know what. Grab me, shake me, claim my lips for himself? Kaoru stops his brother before he reaches out.

"Relax, Hikaru! I'm sure it was a joke!" He tries to talk some sense into his older brother, unsuccessfully. Meanwhile, Tamaki has released me and is sulking on the ground. Maybe I should've tried to kiss one of the other hosts after all. The twins and Tamaki at least would've been more receptive to my advances. But I won't be trying that again anytime soon.

Mori is sharing a look with his cousin, likely saying something silently that only Honey could deduce. And Kyoya is looking at me, eyebrow raised. My eyes meet his, confirming the kiss, and he nods, mostly to himself it seems. I wonder what he makes of everything.

"Can we just go home? It's getting pretty late." I try to divert their attention away from Honey's admission, and my attention away from my own inadequacy.

They agree, somewhat reluctantly, and we leave the carnival together. Honey grabs my hand on the way out and squeezes again, reminding me that everything will be okay. I want to believe that.

The ride home with Kyoya is silent, and I shouldn't be surprised that he doesn't pry into the kiss. He's never been one to openly inquire into our private lives like that, preferring to do his investigating behind the scenes. I guess I thought he would just _know_ what I told Honey afterwards. It's silly – he's not omniscient – but I guess I expected some comment – dare I say praise? – after managing to tell one of the others that I'm having issues. It's what he wanted me to do, isn't it? Talk to someone? Though that's not exactly what I did… At least I know Kyoya never told Honey my secret, and that makes me feel more confident that he didn't tell any of them.

We part ways when we arrive home, and I finally almost speak up. I want to explain what happened. I want him to be proud. Would he be though? I really didn't do anything noteworthy. I even said I didn't want help. Realizing I don't deserve the praise I seek keeps me quiet.

Finally alone after a crazy day, I decide to ignore my homework for the time being. I change into shorts and a tank top to sleep in and flop backwards onto my bed. I set Galen on my stomach as I stare at the ceiling. I have no intention of going to sleep yet, so the lights are still on. I just want to think.

Honey said the others wouldn't be mad, and he's probably right. They'll more likely be sad. I could see Tamaki being disappointed that I didn't confide in him sooner. Hikaru would call me an idiot for not coming to them. Would Mori say anything? Would he show what he's feeling? He would probably pat my head. A show of support? Kaoru will be upset that I considered leaving him. I can't do that to any of them. It's a miracle I managed to tell Honey; better to not press my luck.

I'm surprised to be pulled from my musings by a knock at my bedroom door. I roll my head towards the source of the sound and stare for a minute, wondering if it was all in my head. When there's another triple knock, I know someone is actually there. "Come in," I say, curious what the maids could want at this hour. I sit up to face my guest, eyebrows raising when Honey appears in the doorway.

He asks if we can talk, and after a nod of my head he enters, closing the door behind him. "Sorry to just show up like this, Haru-chan."

"Is there something I can do for you, senpai?" I question, trying to figure out why he's here after having been together just half an hour earlier. I settle Galen to face him in my lap, and consider introducing Honey to my new friend. Is that pathetic?

"Actually, I was thinking there was something I could do for you. If you want."

"Okay?" I encourage, curious where he's going with this. He steps further into my room, coming to sit beside me on the bed. He studies me, though I don't know what he's looking for. I wait patiently for him to explain.

"Haru-chan, you know we'd all do anything for you, right?" I don't need him to clear up who he means, but I debate his word choice.

"I don't know about any-"

"We would." He's quick to cut me off, his voice transforming from his usual cutesy lilt into a more mature cadence. "We would do anything for you, anytime. We love you, though maybe not all in the same ways." And the serious look in his eyes tells me that he speaks the truth. Or at least, the truth as _he_ sees it. I nod my understanding, still waiting for him to get to the point.

"Do you feel the same, Haru-chan? Would you do anything for us?"

He shakes his head before I can answer. "Don't answer that. I already know you would, though I doubt you would admit it."

I frown. "You guys are all I have left." It's not an answer, but I feel like it gets the point across well enough.

His responding smile is sad, but he nods. "And that's why I want to do this for you. If it'll help you at all, then I'm happy to." He pulls his leg up on the bed so he's facing me, and I mirror him, curious. He outstretches a hand to relocate Galen to the bed, and places his other on my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. And that's when I realize what he's doing, and am too surprised to protest.

"I don't want you to ever feel like you've been rejected, Haruhi. Not from me, not from any of us." He leans in, kissing me softly. I'm only frozen for a moment before I tentatively return the kiss, giving him a chance to back out. His free hand snakes around my waist, pulling me towards him and deepening the kiss.

 _This_ is what I wanted, and I can't wrap my head around the fact that it's happening. His tongue meets mine when I'm practically in his lap. I have no idea what I'm doing, having only accidentally kissed a girl before. Do I kiss well enough? What do I do with my hands? One is at the nape of his neck, the other on his chest; it'll have to do. Is he comparing me to every other girl he's kissed? It's obvious there's been plenty.

He carefully lowers me onto the bed, towering over me with one of his legs between mine. This Honey is someone I've never seen before. He's not the short loli-shota that so many of our guests fawn over. He isn't cute or playful. This guy is intense, passionate, confident. He's experienced. If I didn't already know, I'd never guess that he's shorter than me; his presence more than makes up for his height. And he's everywhere, all at once. I'm so distracted it's hard to tell when he's kissing my lips and when he's attached to my neck. He's using one arm to hold himself up, the other is running down my side to lift the hem of my shirt just slightly. Across my thigh, brushing the fabric of my shorts which I never considered to be too short until now. Around my shoulder, pulling the thin strap down. His fingers light fires across my skin and I can't keep track. How is this happening so fast?

The sensations are new and arousing, but it's not what I wanted. Not what I was trying to accomplish. It's physically pleasing, but I wanted it - this experience - to evoke an emotional response. I wanted to be elated at the intimacy, at being desired. I thought it would bring happiness, cheer. After two people kiss, don't they generally pull apart, smiling? I hoped it would make me feel like I was worth something. But as my wits come crashing back all I can feel is fear and self-loathing. What I'm doing could ruin everything. It's wrong. Am I taking advantage of my friend by letting him continue? He said I'm like a sister, and yet he's doing _this_. For me. I feel sick, guilt starting to eat away at me. Honey's mouth returns to mine and I turn my head to the side, preventing another kiss.

"Stop."

The affect is instantaneous. His lips don't touch back down, his hand stops roaming, and is removed from me completely. I was right about him being the safe choice. If only that was worth some points. He's looking at me, the slightest hint of fear beginning to replace the passionate resolve in his eyes. The only thing I can think he'd be afraid of is that he's gone to far. He probably feels like _he's_ taking advantage of _me._

"I was wrong. I don't want this. I shouldn't have started..." I gesture between us as if to say 'this'.

He averts his eyes lifting himself off of me to sit on the edge of the bed. I hear him take a shaky breath, composing himself, and I sit up next to him, fixing my shirt as I move. Lacing my fingers through his, I pull his hand into my lap where I can wrap my other hand around his as well. "Thank you, Honey-senpai." He finally looks at me. "This meant a lot to me. I believe you really would do anything for me, but that doesn't mean I should _let_ you. I found out what I wanted to know, which is that this doesn't bring back happiness either. But wow did you try!" I try to make light of the situation, and Honey rewards me with a small smile. I free his hand and hug him for the millionth time today. Softly this time. Not as desperate. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

He releases me and stands up to leave. "Friends don't do things with any expectation of being paid back. You don't owe me anything. I'm sorry it didn't turn out how you wanted." He's too solemn, and I can't stand to feel like I've messed up this friendship.

"Are we...okay?" I don't know how else to ask if we're still friends. If you can be friends with your sibling after making their entire body blush.

His shoulders relax and he steps back towards me. He sweeps some hair off my forehead and kisses it gently before leaning his forehead against mine. A small smile is back on his face and it seems to transform him. He's back to being the bubbly upperclassman who spends his days surrounded by cute things and being altogether cute himself. It's reassuring. "Always, Haru-chan."

He turns away and makes his way to my bedroom door. "Sleep tight, Haru-chan. I'll see you Monday." I return the sentiment, and then he's gone. I doubt we'll ever speak of this again. Kyoya would probably say that's unhealthy.

Maybe it's because I want to get this little experiment out of my head and the tingle of Honey off my skin, or maybe it's because my near-drowning is on my mind tonight, but I want to go swimming now. It's been weeks since I've been, and I miss it.

I change quickly and make my way down to the pool. I've only just climbed onto the diving board when the door opens, halting my movements. It's Kyoya. He's not sporting swimming trunks, but instead is wearing pajamas and carrying his laptop. He picks a reclining chair near the middle of the pool side, and adjusts it to sit more upright. He lounges back in it, opening his laptop, all without uttering a word.

"Um, Kyoya-senpai?" I question, curious.

"Hmm?" He doesn't even look away from the screen.

"What are you doing?"

"Working on a project."

"Down here?"

"Isn't that obvious?" I guess it is, but he doesn't have to be a smart ass about it.

"Why?" That was what I had actually tried to ask. I need to work on my communication skills.

He finally looks up at me, cocking an eyebrow. "Because you're going swimming, Haruhi." And the way he says it makes me feel like an idiot. Like I should've known that he wasn't going to let me go swimming on my own. Not after...well, not now, anyway. I guess saying it once doesn't make it any easier to admit again.

I look away from him, not sure how to feel about this. How did he even know I was going swimming? He probably installed a sensor or camera or something to let him know if I came down here. Had he been watching me all the many times I came down here to just sit? That's kind of creepy and stalkerish, but I could see Kyoya doing it. Is he sitting there, judging me, waiting for me to do something stupid again?

I glance back at him, and he's still looking at me. The faintest blush rises to my cheeks when I notice how exposed I've been this whole time in front of him. Can he tell what I've been up to tonight? I didn't think to check if Honey had left any marks. It feels like he did. Like there's a visible map across my body where his hands skimmed and squeezed. But Kyoya's gaze never wonders from my own, and I take a slow breath to calm myself. He's here for support, and he wouldn't judge if he did know. Which he doesn't. Because people don't leave physical evidence with just a touch. I tilt my head slightly in a nod, showing my understanding, and turn back to the water. It was dumb to feel embarrassment, anyway. That's one emotion I would've been happy to lose forever, and I should definitely not be feeling just because I acted like every normal teenager in the world for one night. Or because I'm in a skimpy bathing suit. Deep breath, Haruhi.

One step puts me at the edge of the diving board which sways under my weight. I stop, looking straight down. The Ootori pool is pristine, as always. I can see the bottom of the deep diving end through the clear water. Lifting my eyes slightly, I trace a path along the bottom that leads to were my hesitation stems from: the place where I nearly drowned. There's nothing remarkable about the spot, nothing to set it apart from anywhere else. Not visibly, at least. But I know that spot well. I can feel the smooth surface against my back.

I glance back at Kyoya again, who's still watching me. This time, he gives _me_ a slight nod, letting me know he's here, just in case. With a deep breath, I bounce on the board, and dive into the pool.

::::::

Two days later I opt for another swim. I'm in the water before Kyoya joins me this time, setting up in the same chair as before. I don't stop my lap through the pool to greet him, and he remains silent as well. I only do a few laps before I lose interest, stopping to tread water. Kyoya jerks his head up as the splashing come to an abrupt halt, eyes seeking me. He lifts an eyebrow, questioning my actions and I shrug his attention away.

I drift to the shallow end of the pool and grab the edge. I use it as leverage to lift my feet to lay flat on the pool wall. Then, taking a deep breath, I push off the wall as hard as I can, launching myself backwards in a slight arch over the water, and then diving below the surface. Arms extended above my head, I kick my feet, trying to get as far from my starting point as I can before I resurface. When my head comes back up, I stop, treading water again as I look around to determine my distance. I'm not nearly as far as I'd like. I swim back to the start and repeat the process, once, twice, then three times. This time I let my body float when I come up.

I can see the moon through the glass roof, a crescent tonight, and now I'm pretty sure it's waxing. It's such a peaceful feeling, weightlessly floating in the water under the night sky. I consider floating just below the surface for an all-encompassing sense of freedom. I jerk upright at the intrusive thought, arms flailing to keep myself vertical, splashing water into my mouth and making me cough.

When I calm down enough to breath normally I notice Kyoya standing alert, laptop abandoned on the chair. He opens his mouth and I shake my head violently, turning my back on him. I already know exactly what he wants to ask, and he already knows the answer I would give: no, I'm not alright. But that's nothing new, and I really don't want to talk about it. I make my way to the opposite side of the pool from him, and hoist myself out of the water. I grab a towel and rub my limbs down quickly before wrapping it around my torso and heading into the main house. I never look back at Kyoya and it makes me feel guilty. He would want to know.

* * *

 **A/N:** I just want to give a shout out to my reviewers. You guys are seriously so sweet and I love you! Thank you for all your heartwarming words.

Molly: I can't begin to describe how much I obsess over editing. I read and change a word and re-read and change it back. I delete whole paragraphs because they just don't fit right, no matter how much I love the way I've worded them. I'll find a whole scene where I've somehow managed to transform Haruhi into a completely different person and have to re-write the whole thing to fix her character! And then I post the chapter and when I happen to glance back a few days later I always find other things I wish I had altered or fixed. I don't know how silly little typos make it past so many read-throughs! And because of something else you said:

 **TO ALL READERS: **I hope this touches everyone who reads it in some way. Whether because you've been through a similar experience in the past or now. Maybe you've lost a friend to suicide. Maybe you've fought depression for longer than you'd like to admit. Or maybe your thoughts just manage to drift of their own accord to topics or situations you wouldn't consciously consider. It's okay to not always feel in control. You're not alone. I can't promise a speedy reply, but I'm here if anyone wants to talk.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Tamaki recorded a CD for me months ago showing off several of his piano compositions. It's a beautiful mix of songs, really. Some are slow, gentle, comforting. Others are so upbeat it's a wonder anyone can move their fingers across the keys that fast. I can honestly say I love every song on the CD. Tamaki is incredibly talented.

Right now, that CD is inside of a thin green case that's been hand-decorated by the prince himself. If he hadn't told me, I would've assumed a five-year-old had drawn the colorful scribbles that he calls "art". Clearly, he should stick to music as his artistic outlet. But back to the point.

That case is inside the top right drawer of my desk, which is currently blocked by my desk chair. That chair, of course, is pushed neatly under the desk, but aggravatingly enough, the arm of it happens to be perfectly level with the top drawer, preventing it from opening.

Now, I'm pretty sure my portable CD player is in my school bag. At least, that's where it was yesterday when I took it to school to help pass some free time I had due to being done with a project ahead of schedule. There's a possibility it's on my dresser though, which is where I usually stash it when not in use. Occasionally it's on my nightstand, but I'm nearly positive it'll be in one of the former two places. If I was able to think straight right now, I could say for certain where exactly it was, like I can with the CD. At least I know that my headphones are still plugged into the player. I never remove them.

And I'd be able to think just- FUCK. Why? Why does each boom of thunder have to get louder? Why do they have to crash closer together and then _roll_ for longer each time? And I swear when I was younger the lightning would flash immediately before the roar of thunder sounded, but these days, the lightning just seems to flash whenever it damn well pleases. The warning used to help. Thanks for nothing, mother nature.

April showers, my ass. Who came up with that? More like April death-to-all-especially-me. Why couldn't it be April animals, where all the animals coming out of hibernation make themselves be known in a friendly manner, thereby receiving loving pets and treats? And that at least has alliteration on its side. Or, keeping with that idea, why not April altercations, if it just _has_ to be something bad. Or April audits, since that's not something I have to worry about at all. Or April altercations caused by animal audits! Because April _showers_ doesn't make any more sense. Even if it does rhyme with stupid May flowers.

As another wave of thunder crashes over the house I huddle more into myself. Why does the bathroom have to have a damn window? You'd think I could curl up in the tub in darkness, but no. I have to be reminded by random flashes of blinding light that my worst nightmare has woken me up in the middle of the night. Ha! It figures that while most people's nightmare occur while they're dead asleep, mine only serve to wake me up more. But if I can't help the light I can at least help the sound.

I just have to wait for the next rumble to end, run to my desk- GOD DAMN not again. Concentrate, Haruhi. Sprint to the desk, launch the chair out of the way, open the drawer, grab the CD, run to my bag-shit. _Where_ is my bag? Is it by my desk? I think so. It should be, right? Yes, it must be because I had to pull a textbook out of it when I was working on that English assignment earlier. Okay, good. So, I don't have to go far once I grab the CD, ruffle through my bag to find the player-

AGAIN? Why do you do this to me, thunder? Just give me a minute to think, please! If the player isn't in my bag I have to run to my dresser, grab the player as I run by and hurdle back into the tub. I can do that. I should really spare a glance for the dresser as I first race to the desk so I know if it's there and then won't have to waste time with my bag. Hell, while I'm at it I should grab a blanket and a pillow, and while I've apparently got just soooo much time I might as well skip down the hall to Kyoya's room and see if he'll protect me from the big bad sto-FUCKFUCKFUCK this storm is never going to end and I don't think it likes my thinking sarcastic thoughts about it. I can do better, mother nature. I promise!

So, CD, then player, then retreat. I can _do_ this. First step, unclench my eyes so I have even the slightest chance of pulling this off.

...

Nope. Can't do it. Okay, new plan: sit here, paralyzed with fear like always. It's worked in the past, right? No reason to fix what's not broken! I can make it through this. Just don't listen, don't listen, don't listen, there's nothing to hear!

Maybe lightning should be what finishes me off. Ha! How fitting would that be? Thunder has practically ruled my life until now, so it may as well be thunder's counterpart that rules over my death!

No, Haruhi! That's not only a bad thought it's a silly one. Even if I managed – NONONONONO NO MORE, PLEASE! – breathe. Even if I managed to get myself outside during a storm, getting struck by lightning is pretty rare. I'd have to really, really try.

Though...that wouldn't be the hardest thing to do. Look up weather patterns, travel to a nice open field, bring a metal rod, and let nature take its course. Or I could go for a swim somewhere more open. It's been a while since I've been in a pool. I still think a water death would be poetic. On top of being fitting with the lightning and all. Yeah, that could be a good way to go. But plenty of people survive being struck, so it's just a doubly idiotic idea.

Kyoya would be disappointed. Why isn't Kyoya here right now? Is he seriously sleeping through this? Does he even care anymore? Do any of them?

Don't be ridiculous, of course they do. It's none of their jobs to help me through the storms. They're all probably asleep, completely unaware of my suffering. Back to good thoughts. Focus. Just need to open my eyes and make a dash for Tamaki's CD full of beautiful melodies that will help me drown out and completely forget the racket outside.

I wish dad was here. He would fix everything. Would getting struck by lightning hurt more or less than a car? If it kills you, probably less. There'd be no time to suffer. Not like with a car.

I should've saved you, dad. I could've prevented that accident. So many ways. How could I let this happen?

I concentrate on the tears unable to roll down my face while it's buried in my arms and on my legs. Not tears for my dad, which wouldn't get me anywhere, but tears for the paralyzing fear…which honestly doesn't get me anywhere either, but no one ever said phobias are logical. My knees are wet and cold, causing me to shiver even more violently than I usually do during storms. I need to start wearing more than shorts to bed.

The next crack of thunder shakes the house more than any previous and I'm pretty sure I screamed. I don't know. If a girl opens her mouth in an empty room and is drowned out by the deafening roar of thunder, did the girl make a sound? Stupid philosophical tree; you've always been a pointless question.

I've always been just as pointless, though, so the metaphor stands.

I just want it to end.

It should scare me that I don't even know what I'm referring to.

::::::

I don't know when I fell asleep. I don't know how, either. That's how it usually happens, I guess. One minute I'm so tense I feel like I'm going to snap in half, and the next, nothingness. I think I just wear myself out, but that seems like a ridiculous possibility when I'm in the moment.

I start to shift, intending to stretch, knowing I'm going to be hurting after sleeping crouched in a tub all night, but the second I move I realize I'm not alone. My face is against a solid warmth, and my hands clenched in a soft fabric. Startled to not find the hard porcelain, I jerk my head away to find the source of my apparent pillow. It's Mori.

Why is it Mori? When did he get here? How did I end up in this position? With my hands still gripping his shirt I realize I'm in his lap. His legs are extended down the length of the tub and I'm curled up against his chest. His arms are firmly holding me in place. Keeping me safe. Not that I need someone to keep me safe. How did he even get in? He even thought to grab my comforter to combat the chilly night.

When his eyes start to open I'm quick to replace my head against his chest, hoping he was still too sleep-addled to notice the movement. His heart beat is steady, tranquil. I just want to listen for awhile before we have to get up.

"Good morning," he says entirely too soon. I guess he knows I'm awake. Has he known this whole time? It has to have been at least ten minutes since I burrowed back into him. Well that's not embarrassing.

I should really let go now; the ruse is up. Maybe I'll apologize for clutching at him all night. For being a burden. But...he chose this, right? This isn't my fault. I didn't force him to be my bed. I didn't ask him to come all the way to the Ootori estate to make me feel better. The words start to tumble out anyway. "I'm so-"

"Don't." My hands clench at his shirt even harder at that. I'm probably going to wear holes in it.

His arms are still securely around me, and I take that as permission to leave my head where it's comfortably nuzzled. I whisper, "You didn't have to do this." Come here. Probably break in. Situate himself to keep _me_ cozy at the expense of his own comfort. Be thoughtful enough to grab a blanket. Hold me until I feel better. You know, _this._

"No," he agreed. If one of the twins were to answer me like that it would infuriate me. That's not an answer _at all_ for any of my unasked questions! But that's a ludicrous expectation of anyone, and this is Mori. His single 'no' says so much more. It says he was able and he wanted to. It says it's no trouble at all, and he'd happily do it again. It says to relax.

So I do. I release my hands, letting one drop into my lap and keeping one flat against his chest alongside my head. "Thank you."

His arms tighten in response, his head dropping to rest on top of mine.

We remain that way until the alarm clock on my nightstand starts wailing, reminding us that reality is waiting.

::::::

A week later, club activities are winding down for the day. Everyone is with their last batch of princesses, reminding them of their upcoming event before they bid them farewell. I'm working on cleanup, as usual, grabbing finished teapots and discarded cups to be washed in the back room. It's been a pretty normal day.

At Tamaki's table now, I load a serving tray up with the empty china set, wishing the ladies a wonderful evening as I walk away. I head to the back room, again, and set the tray on the counter. I grab the first cup, and begin carefully scrubbing it clean before setting it to the side to dry. The next cup, which I was intending to repeat the process with, slips from my hand as soon as it's lifted. It shatters when it hits the tile.

I crouch down with a sigh and start picking up scattered pieces of china. Apparently I'm not careful enough because a shard manages to slice my left index finger as I grab it, causing me to drop it again. "Damn," I mutter and start to raise my finger to suck on it. A drop of blood falls to the floor before I can, splashing on shards of the broken cup. Another drop follows, and I watch as it makes its way down the jagged cup edges and hits the floor. The blood pools under the chipped pieces, and I'm mesmerized by the movement. I look at the cut on the pad of my finger, only half an inch long, and watch the droplets from start to finish. The monotony, the predictability—it reminds me of life. We all keep doing the same thing day after day, with an occasional wrench thrown into our plans. Dropping the shards still in my right hand, I grab a dirty teacup off the tray and place it on the floor to catch the droplets. There's the wrench. The blood can't roll over the ruined china and pool on the tile any longer. Now it's trapped. I could watch this all day.

Vaguely, I wonder how long I'd have to wait to fill the intact teacup at this rate. Maybe I could help it along? I reach for a single, larger chunk of the broken cup. It shouldn't be so surprising that it's slick from my blood, but I expected it to be sticky from the dried tea. Holding it by its one smooth edge (it must've been part of the rim), I bring the jagged edge towards my left hand. I could test which finger bleeds fastest. Or maybe the squishy fleshy part of my palm would be best. Yes, I think the palm could be interesting. One quick stroke of the china and my palm bleeds freely. I hardly even felt it. Is that normal? Maybe some endorphins kicked in, and dulled the pain. I think that's a thing.

The blood is pooling faster now with the added source, but it still isn't enough. A spark from a past anatomy lesson flies through my head and I remember that the wrist provides easy access to an artery. Or is it a vein? Either way, I think that would bleed well, quickly. The cup would fill in no time, and then overflow onto the floor. It would be free.

 _I_ would be free.

A picture of Kyoya crosses my mind as I press the edge to my wrist, wondering how much it's going to hurt. _If_ it will hurt. Really this is more of a science experiment than anything. Kyoya wants to know if I'm going to hurt. Honey would probably want to know too. The thought of pain is quickly discarded though. Even if it's excruciating, it isn't going to last long; I was going to make sure of that. I should really talk to Kyoya.

The tip of the shard presses into my wrist, and I hold my breathe. I'm sorry, Kyoya.

"Hey, Har- Oh my god! Haruhi, are you okay? There's so much blood." I was so captivated with my thoughts I didn't even hear Kaoru coming. Startled, I drop the chipped china, knocking over the standing cup in the process. Kaoru is quick to grab a towel and press it to my hand when he spots the source of the blood. It stings.

Mori and Honey are right behind him, having heard his exclamation. Then, Hikaru and Tamaki shove in behind them. They spot the blood spattered across the floor immediately, fear on all their faces as they question my well being. I look away, ashamed. How do I explain this?

"It's just a cut. No big deal, really. You don't need to call for help, Honey-senpai." He drops the phone he had pulled out back down from his ear.

"Haru-chan, what happened?" Honey almost sounds like he's going to cry. He's searching my face for an answer I'm sure he already knows. I keep my eye's pointedly in any other direction.

"It was an accident. I knocked some cups off and when I was picking up the shards I knicked my finger. And then when I tried to pick up another, the floor was slick and I ended up sliding my palm against an edge and sliced it as well." I'm surprised at myself. I've never been the smoothest at lying, but the story came to me unbidden. Maybe the ongoing deceit of my gender is giving me new skills. Who knew?

"That's a lot of blood," Mori observes, a hint of a question in his voice. I ignore it, hoping no one else noticed.

"I guess I sliced it just right. Or wrong." I force a chuckle. "But I'm fine, so I'll get back to cleaning this up." I reach for the good cup with my free hand, and Hikaru is quick to stop me.

"We'll do it, Haruhi. We don't want you to cut yourself again." Hikaru crouches down next to Kaoru, who has been frowning at me since he came in. I avoid his gaze, much like Honey's (I'm going to run out of places to look at this rate), and they begin sifting through the bloody mess I created, carefully extracting piece after jagged piece. Tamaki pulls me up to the sink to wash off my hand, and Honey grabs the first aid kit. When it's clean to Tamaki's satisfaction, Mori deftly bandages my hand and finger, and it's like the whole thing never happened. Ha, I wish.

"You'll need stitches," Mori points out, which I'm quick to write off.

"Where's kyoya-senpai," I ask. Maybe he'll never even find out that anything happened.

"I think he was seeing the last customers out," Kaoru answers, now wiping up the last of my blood.

I'm relieved. If he was here now, he would know exactly what had gone through my head. I have no doubt about that. The deception makes me feel worse.

::::::

As the club is breaking up to head our own ways for the night, Honey grabs my arm. I should've known I wouldn't be able to make a clean get-away after today's events. "How about I give you a ride home, Haru-chan!" I don't even get a chance to protest, already being dragged towards his car.

Kyoya, already nearing ours, raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. Tamaki's mouth has dropped, and he tries and fails to voice his indignation. I'm sure it's something about how I shouldn't be left alone with Honey again after the incident on the Ferris wheel. He has no idea. Hikaru is mad, probably for the same reason, and Kaoru just frowns. But it's not sad, more disappointed. Does he want alone time with me instead?

"What about Mori-senpai?" I ask, trying to come up with a good reason I shouldn't ride with him.

"Takashi's busy with Kendo tonight! So we've got plenty of time to hang out. Just us!" He seems oblivious to everyone's reaction to us being together, but there's nothing for it. I guess I can't get out of this inevitable conversation.

Resigned, I climb into his car without a fuss.

Honey has been great since he found out I'm ever so slightly depressed. He hasn't been overbearing or any extra clingy, and he doesn't constantly check on me to make sure I'm doing okay. I think that's what I feared the most. The extra fearful attention that I would receive if any of the hosts found out. But Honey has been Honey. Sweet, caring, wonderfully accepting, Honey.

If anything, I find myself talking to _him_ more than usual. About whatever. It's easier somehow, knowing I'm not keeping some big secret from him. I was right to think our unplanned rendezvous would never be brought up again. It's like it never happened, and I'm perfectly okay with that.

So if Honey is so easy to talk to, why am I dreading the upcoming conversation? There's no need. This is my good friend Honey, who just wants to help. This isn't a big deal. The secret is already out. Relax.

I'm not sure when he climbed in the car, but he's sitting next to me, pulling some sort of candy out of his bag. "Want some?" he offers, and I decline with a shake of my head.

He makes quick work of his treat, licking his fingers clean after. "Wanna talk about it?" I could play dumb. Talk about _what_? I don't know what you're referring to! But I won't. This is easy. I just need to believe that.

"Not really," I mumble, rubbing my thumb over my covered injury.

"I didn't think so. But you should, ya know?"

I nod, still concentrating on my hand.

"Doesn't have to be to me. You could talk to one of the others! I think Kyo-chan would be a receptive listener. Don't you?"

I nod again. Kyoya would be completely receptive, sure. After being mad at my actions. I wasn't supposed to do this. I _promised_.

"Hey," Honey calls for my attention, grabbing my abused hand to keep my from messing with it anymore. "It's alright, Haru-chan. Accidents happen."

His smile is so understanding, and I latch onto his description. Yes, this was just an accident. A slip-up. Kyoya can't fault me for being human, can he? It wasn't like I was _trying_ to go back on my word. I'm not that kind of person, and Kyoya knows it.

When the car suddenly stops I'm surprised to see the hospital through the window. Kyoya is waiting out front. I should've known. I turn to Honey and hug him, knowing our location wasn't his fault. "Thank you, senpai." He didn't push me; he didn't make me feel bad. He was just there, supporting me and being available if I need him. What did I ever do to deserve such a good friend?

Kyoya hardly speaks as he ushers me through the hospital.

::::::

That night, I can't sleep. I lay awake, running through sensitive events in my head. The gauze around my hand is starting to fall off from how much I've fingered it. There are several stitches under it, making my skin feel unnaturally tight. I look at it in the dark, remembering the bright red droplets that had sprung forth. I don't want it to be a memory though; I want to see it again.

I jolt upright in bed and shake my head violently to rid myself of the thought. What is wrong with me?

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I stand and take a few steps toward my bedroom door. I stop momentarily, just standing there. What am I doing? I continue forward, gently twisting the handle with my good hand and pulling it open quietly. I make my way down the hall quickly, stopping outside of Kyoya's room. I put my back to the wall beside his door and slide down to the carpet, leaning forward onto my knees.

I stay there, waiting. I'm not sure what for. Part of me hopes Kyoya will venture out of his room too, maybe for a late night snack, and see me here. I want to talk to him. Honey was right; I need to. I promised. But it's late, and I know he's sleeping. He doesn't like being woken…no matter what he said before.

I stand up, coming to a decision. I'll talk to Kyoya some other time, but for now, maybe just his presence will help. Maybe I can just slump down in his room, and that will be enough. It has to be better than sitting out here, wasting my night away.

I face his door and forego knocking, not wanting to chance waking the Low Blood Pressure Lord, and instead turn the handle. I only open it enough to pop my head through so I can look around. When there's no movement from Kyoya's bed, I slowly push it wide enough for me to slip in, and then gently close it behind me. I step to the wall, and slide down, mirroring my position from the hall. It's colder in here, and I try to huddle more into myself for warmth. My usual shorts and tank top pajamas certainly aren't helping. I should've learned after the last time my sleep attire was inadequate.

I breathe in and can smell Kyoya in the air. He's like a crisp winter night after a thick snowfall, and a spice that I can't quite name. My heart rate increases, nervous because I shouldn't be here. This has to be the biggest violation of privacy I've ever partaken in, and I can't believe that I talked myself into it. I entered his personal space without his permission or knowledge and I hate myself for it. How would I feel if I found out someone was in _my_ room without my consent, while I snoozed away, none the wiser?

Suddenly feeling like a creep, I stand up. I have to get out of here. The moment I crack the door open I hear the bed creak behind me and turn to look. Kyoya's sitting up, gazing in my direction. I freeze, no longer breathing. How do I explain this?

"Leaving so soon, Haruhi?" he asks, reaching for the glasses on his bedside table. It's not the groggy voice I'd expect of someone who just woke up, nor is it harsh as one would think of someone so rudely awoken.

"I, um- yeah. Sorry." I'm amazed I don't win awards for my elegant replies. I open the door wider, intending to slip out.

"Why did you come?" I can clearly hear his covers shift as he pulls back his blanket to drop his legs over the side.

I pause in the doorway, owing him an explanation. "I just- I mean, you said, before…" I trail off, not knowing where to start.

"What did I say before?" he coaxes calmly. It helps, honestly. His unperturbed manner of speech helps me slow my breathing. He's not mad that I'm here, so I really should get on with it.

"You said that I could come talk to you...if I- before I- I mean, not that I…" I trail off again. For some reason, I can't say it out loud. I can't tell him how traitorous my thoughts have been, or how I nearly hurt myself. How I _did_ hurt myself. I can't handle the disappointment that would bring.

He understands, and I'm so relieved I don't have to spell it out. "I did. I believe I even specified that it wouldn't matter if you had to wake me, which you didn't by the way. I have trouble falling asleep." A clap of his hands brings the lights to life, and I squint at the sudden brightness. "Close the door, Haruhi." It's not an order, but an offer.

I do so, and turn to face him. He's wearing long pajama pants, his chest bare. I've never considered how he slept before, but I'm suddenly grateful he doesn't sleep in the nude.

"Do you want to sit?" He asks, gesturing widely as if to say "take your pick". I look at the couch in the middle of the room, then to his computer chair at the side. I glance down at the floor where I stand, considering curling back up how I had been. Then, I look at his bed and the blanket strewn across, and remember how cold I am. I walk hesitantly closer, glancing at him and then to the bed, asking for permission. He raises an eyebrow, surprised by my choice, but doesn't stop me as I crawl up his bed, move a pillow out of my way and lean against his headboard. I pull his blanket up over my outstretched legs, and rest the ousted pillow on them. He joins me against the headboard but not under the covers. He's there for support, but doesn't want to intrude on my space.

I still don't know where to start, so he does for me. "Mori-senpai mentioned there was an unusually large amount of blood… as if you had been bleeding for a while." Damn. Damn damn damn! He already knows everything, and he knows I broke my promise. And why would _Mori_ of all of them have spoken up? Did Mori _know_? Did Honey break his promise and confide in his closest friend? Or had Kyoya told someone after all? Suddenly his silence when I came into his room makes sense. He wanted to give me the chance to come clean, and I failed.

I look pointedly away from Kyoya, knowing I've let him down. "Haruhi," he says, and his voice is still so gentle. It makes the guilt worse, and I grip my lap pillow between my fingers. The pain it causes in my left palm feels deserved.

"I'm sorry, senpai. I don't know how it happened. I was going to tell you, I swear." I look at him, pleading for his understanding.

He nods, believing me, and I let out a shaky breath. "So, tell me now. What happened today? I only know the end result." It feels like a lie. He knows how the end result came to be as well, or else we wouldn't be having this conversation. I look away again, unable to handle his unwavering gaze.

A loud double clap startles me, and the room is plunged back into darkness. "Better?" he asks. I don't know how he reads me so well.

"Yes." The anonymity of the dark is comforting. With a deep breath, I bring myself to tell him what he wants to know. "It _was_ an accident. I knocked a teacup off the counter, and it shattered. When I was picking up the pieces, I cut my finger. And then, I don't know." I bring my legs up to lean on again as I stare into his dark room, squishing the pillow to my body. Galen would've been a much better source of comfort. I'm silent too long, but he doesn't interrupt my thoughts. I don't know how he's so patient. He never seemed to be before.

"A drop of my blood hit the floor before I could stop it, and I just, I guess I kind of...liked it? No, I didn't like it, that's not the right word. But I was mesmerized. It's like… you know how when some tragedy in the world happens and no matter how gruesome it is people can't help but watch every scrap of footage they can find on it? Curiosity demands that you watch. It's kind of like that." I can hear Kyoya shift in the dark, and I assume he nodded. I hope he did, because I don't know a better way to explain it. "Anyway, this tiny bead of blood managed to make its way through the wreckage of the shattered cup to the solace of the floor. And then there was another drop and another, and I just _watched."_ I'm disgusted with myself and expect him to be too, but he doesn't so much as probe me to continue, content to let me talk at my own pace.

"It reminded me of, well, me I guess. They just followed this continuous cycle, and it made me _mad_. It wasn't fair that each drop just got to merrily repeat the actions of its predecessors, when for the rest of world, shit happens and ruins every plan you've ever made. So I ruined _their_ plans. And god, I must sound completely crazy. I'm acting like blood is more than an inanimate fucking object!"

I flatten my legs in a huff, angry at my stupidity, and grip the pillow again. Kyoya moves, drawing my eyes even in the dark. He reaches for my injured hand, holding it gently in his. "You don't sound crazy." That's all he says, and my eyes begin to water. I intertwine our fingers and I squeeze, needing to show him how much I appreciate that. Everything, really. Because right now, the Shadow King of the host club is being a fucking saint, and I don't feel like I deserve his kindness.

I let my hand relax, but don't pull away. "I grabbed another teacup to catch my blood. I wanted it to not reach the tile like _it_ wanted. I trapped each drop, and then I realize that it was still imitating _me_. _I_ feel trapped, senpai. Life threw me this huge curve ball, ruining everything, and I've been trapped ever since. I don't _feel_ things the way I should. I don't _want_ things the way I used to.

"And then I thought, 'there's a way for the blood to escape.'" I pause again, because this is the really hard part. This is the part where I have to admit what I almost did, what I _would've_ done if I hadn't been interrupted. I don't know if I can handle Kyoya's disappointment when I say it. He squeezes my hand, still supporting me. I wonder how long that will last. I look away again, not that he can see more than my silhouette anyway.

"I thought, 'if the blood overflows the cup, it'll drip down to the floor. It'll be free.' I wanted to fill the cup faster, because at the rate my finger was leaking, I'd be there all night, waiting. And I didn't want to wait. I wanted it to be free right then, because if my blood could find its way out, then maybe I can too. I grabbed a larger shard from the floor, and cut my palm open without much thought. But it wasn't enough. My hand was coated in blood, and it wasn't anywhere near how much I wanted to spill, senpai. I had just decided that my wrist would be the best place to cut to produce the most blood when Kaoru found me. I dropped the shard and I knocked over the cup. I didn't want anyone to see, to know."

There's silence again, and I don't know if he's waiting for me to continue or if he just can't stand being around me now. "Say something!" I yell, trying to rip my hand out of his. He doesn't let go. "Aren't you disgusted? Disappointed? Angry? Something!" I tug at my hand a few more times, but he just holds tighter. He forcefully pulls it into his lap, where his other hand can wrap around the back of mine. It reminds me of when I took Honey's hands when he was withdrawn after our tryst. I stop fighting. These aren't the actions of someone who wants nothing to do with me.

"Haruhi." His voice is so soft, and there's a sadness hanging off the end of my name. "I'm so sorry you're going through this. Whatever you think, I'm not any of those things. I'm proud that you're opening up. You need to, Haruhi. Your father died," I inhale sharply, "and no one blames you for being sad or expects you to bounce right back. But you have to know that hurting yourself or killing yourself aren't options. Ever. You know how it feels to lose someone. Do you know how many people would be in that same state if anything happened to you?"

I don't. I have no family. The other hosts would miss me, sure, but it's not the same. They'd get over it. Kyoya seems to know what I'm thinking. "You silly girl." It's not a reprimand. "You have so many people who care. Honey-senpai, Mori-senpai, Tamaki, Hikaru, Kaoru, and myself—we would be devastated if we lost you. I don't doubt that some might lose all ability to function without you in their life. Not to mention how many people outside of the club that would be effected. You're well known, Haruhi, and very well liked.

"But that's all besides the point. Our happiness isn't your burden to bear. You have to live for _yourself_. You're going to graduate Ouran at the top of your class, attend college and law school and be the best lawyer Japan has ever seen, just as you've wanted for most of your life. You're going to find someone to marry and probably have kids. Haruhi, you _will_ be happy again, even if it doesn't feel like it at this very moment.

"And right now, if living for yourself isn't enough, live to embody your mother's intelligence and drive, and your father's kind heart and open mind. You're all that's left of them now, so you live _for_ them, for their memory. Don't let the best thing they did in their lives end so soon."

And now I can't stop the tears from falling. I cry quietly, not sobbing, just letting them flow down my cheeks. I rest back against the headboard staring into the darkness. Kyoya doesn't say anything more, allowing me as much time as I need to contemplate what a horrible daughter I've been. His hands still exert a reassuring pressure on mine.

When the tears have slowed to just an occasional drop sliding down my face I roll my head to the side, facing Kyoya again. "You're right." It's barely a whisper, but he acknowledges he's heard with another gentle squeeze of my hand. With my free hand I wipe at my face, trying to erase the evidence. "I'll do better. I promise. I won't let their lives be in vain."

"There's no rush, Haruhi. You don't have to be better tomorrow."

I shake my head. I _do_ have to be better; I have to try. I've wasted enough time.

"Honey-senpai knows." I don't know why I bring it up.

"I'm aware."

I nod slightly. What doesn't the shadow king know? "When?" Maybe he didn't figure it out right away.

"The day after the carnival. One of the maids mentioned he'd been here late the night before, and I asked him why. He told me everything."

I flinch, cringing at my desperate attempt at happiness.

His face rolls towards me again, and I'm glad he can't see my blush. "I'm not judging. I can understand your objective, if not your choice in host. But I'm glad you confided in him." Who should I have chosen then? I don't ask aloud. "And for what it's worth, he didn't break his promise. I'm the one who told Mori. I wanted another set of eyes watching out for your well-being."

I feel like I should've know. Mori is ever the quiet observer. "I think Kaoru knows too. About today at least." I can hear his shock in his silence. It feels nice to catch him off guard. "He saw my with the shard against my wrist."

He seems to think about that for a moment. "You should talk to him."

I knew he was going to say that. I don't have a response, not particularly wanting to have that conversation with Kaoru yet.

"Then that would just leave Tamaki and Hikaru...unless it doesn't?"

"It does," I confirm. It's a bit heartening to know that he wasn't sure about that. The Shadow King doesn't know everything after all.

"Your hesitance towards those two is understandable, but I still think they should know. After you tell Kaoru you can't expect him to keep this from his brother forever. If he's even kept it secret this long."

I let out a noisy breath as my eyes widen. I hadn't considered that he would tell someone. No, Haruhi, think clearly. "He would've exposed my lie as it spilled from my lips today if he was going to tell anyone. He'll keep my secret for now. Assuming he really does know. He could be completely clueless." Kyoya doesn't push the subject again.

"We should probably go to bed. I'm sorry for keeping you up late."

"It's not a problem, Haruhi. Don't apologize."

My hand is still trapped on his lap, his warmth seeping through the bandage and somehow soothing my abused palm. I expect him to let go but he doesn't, nor do I pull away. I don't actually want to leave yet. I'm afraid of being left alone with my thoughts. It's much easier to think clearly, here, surrounded by spice and snow.

He can't see my face, so maybe it's the way my hand shakes ever so slightly in his that allows him to know my thoughts so well. "You can stay, if you want. My bed is plenty big…as long as you don't snore." I can hear him smirk at the end of his offer and, caught off-guard, it forces the smallest of chuckles out of my own mouth. I think it's my first real laugh in months. I take my hand back and return my lap pillow to its original position as I slide down the headboard until I'm laying. He pulls back the covers for himself and copies my motion.

I turn onto my side, facing him, my hand finding its way under the pillow to prop up my head. "Why, senpai?" I want to drop the honorific- if you can't be on a more familiar basis with someone you've poured your heart out to, who can you be with? My question is so vague, no one else would possibly understand what I'm asking. But Kyoya always knows. I want to know why he's suddenly so nice. Why he's helping me. Why he thinks I'm worth all the trouble he's gone through.

Remaining on his back, he turns just his head towards me. "Because you matter, Haruhi." And it's what I need to hear and not nearly enough all at the same time. I nearly ask why again. Why do I matter? But I close my mouth without uttering a sound.

He turns his head back, looking straight up. I copy his position, laying on my back.

"Thank you for saving me from drowning, Kyoya. I should've said it sooner."

"You're welcome, Haruhi."

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter is ~1100 words longer than the last, which was over 2000 words more than chapter three! At this rate these chapters are going to be massive by the time I reach the end! I appreciate everyone's feedback from the previous chapter! It really means a lot to me, and helps me to be sure I'm not going in a weird direction with this. Hopefully this chapter is to your liking as well! Or at least as much as you can like dark, depressing thoughts and harmful acts. Any other writers out there ever feel bad for putting characters through so much hardship? I do. I just want want to let Haruhi off the hook and start her back on her normal path in life.

Unfortunately, that's not how depression works. You aren't just suddenly one day free of the darkness. So if anyone thought Kyoya's conversation was going to magically snap her out of it, here's your warning: Haruhi's battle isn't over yet.

I'll try to get the next chapter up in a few weeks!


	6. Chapter Six

**A/N:** I'm so sorry this took nearly a full month! In my defense, I found out at the last minute that I was going to be hosting Thanksgiving, including having my parents and my brother's family staying at my house for 5 days. So I spent every spare minute of the past week and a half cleaning and didn't have time to really touch this. But then I couldn't sleep, so here's the next chapter!

Thank you so so much to my reviewers! I can't tell you how happy I get when an email pops up on my phone telling me I've got another review. You guys rock!

 **KaliDax** : I absolutely love hearing thoughts and ideas from my readers! I _do_ have plans for Kaoru.

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Chapter Six

"You must be Haruhi. I'm Dr. Chizuru Kaneko, but you can call me Chizuru." Because she's trying to come off friendly? Her dark hair says otherwise, pulled into a tight bun, not a single hair out of place. And she's unusually tall – almost 6 foot? – probably towering over most people that come to see her. Disregarding the more formal title is probably to put people at ease in the wake of how she comes off. She's trying too hard.

"It's nice to meet you." I bow politely before following her into the office.

"Would you like to sit?" She gestures to a pair of plush chairs in the middle of the room. They're baby blue, each with a bright yellow throw pillow. Calming colors maybe? I could see a psychologist doing something like that on purpose. Or happy colors? Isn't yellow supposed to make people feel better? I should look more into color psychology. I feel like that's definitely a thing I've heard of.

The chairs aren't facing each other exactly, but more angled so the patient doesn't have to look directly at the professional. They can just stare straight ahead at the wall of motivational posters. Goody.

She's quick to sit in one, smiling, bringing herself down to a less intimidating height. She thinks too much of herself. I take the vacant seat as she picks up a clipboard from her side table. She starts scribbling. Already. How does she already have something to write? I've only said one sentence!

There's multiple bookshelves around the room, mostly filled with books as they're designed to be, but plenty of knick knacks fill the empty spaces and act as bookends.

I can see her watching me from my peripherals, but I see no reason to stop looking around. One shelf has several pictures throughout it. One frame is of two young children, another of Dr. Kaneko with those children at the park. Each kid has a picture by themselves too, a school picture by the look of it. There's no wedding picture, nothing depicting a male presence in her life or that of her children. Divorced, I bet.

"So, Haruhi, why don't you tell me what brings you here?" Her clipboard is resting on her crossed legs, pen loose in her hand. She's not poised to write my answer.

"I'm sure you already know the answer to that. Kyoya-senpai probably gave you a run-down when he made the appointment."

"I know you've been having a tough time ever since your father passed away, and I know you've thought about hurting yourself. But I don't know much of anything beyond that. So, Kyoya is the Ootori who made the appointment? He's your upperclassman?" She picks up the clipboard and holds her pen at the ready.

I nod, and feel like I'm betraying him for not clarifying that he's also my friend and confidant. That he rescued me and deserves so much more credit than a mere upperclassman.

"And I understand you now live with the Ootoris. Do you like it there?"

"Yes, it's fine. They're fine."

"Well that's good to hear. A lot of people tend to have problems when moving in with another family. Sometimes they feel excluded. Other times they feel like too much attention is on them. There's often a lot of clashing, not getting along. But you aren't having any problems like that?"

When I don't answer right away she looks up from whatever note she's making on her clipboard. If she's unnerved by my staring, she doesn't show it.

"The Ootoris...are a very powerful family. Very rich. I assume that's how I got this appointment so quickly." It's Saturday, and less than a day since Kyoya called from the hospital to make the appointment. I pause for a moment letting her wipe the shock from her face. This isn't the direction she planned on this conversation going. "So let me ask you something, _Dr._ Kaneko," I emphasize her title, showing I'm not going to play her game, "how can I tell you anything when I already know you can be bought?"

Her mouth is open, trying to find a response. I lean back in my chair, crossing my legs to mirror her and clasping my hands in my lap. I don't have to wait long.

"I'm not exactly sure what you mean by 'bought', but I don't deny you managed to get this appointment because of who you know. That doesn't mean I'm any less invested in helping you, same as anyone who comes to see me."

"Let me clarify." I uncross my legs and lean slightly towards her on the arm of the chair. "By 'bought' I mean that nothing I say here is likely to stay confidential. If I were to voice a complaint against any of the Ootoris, they would probably receive a phone call from you after our session, detailing everything I've said. Now, whether that's because you would offer it for a price, or because they've _already_ offered to pay you, _or_ because they've threatened your job if you withhold anything from them – I can't say. So I'll ask again: how can I tell you anything?"

Throughout my monologue her eyes have widened at regular intervals. I've caught her completely off guard.

She smiles then, nodding her head slowly in understanding, which makes me frown. What does she have to smile about after that? She picks up her forgotten clipboard and makes a quick note.

"I have to say, Haruhi, it sounds like you have trust issues. That's something we can work on if you like. And I have to further infer that you especially don't trust your host family. Though I can assure you that I _can't_ be bought, as you say. They haven't asked me to report on these sessions and if they ask in the future I'll tell them exactly what I'm about to say to you. What you say in these sessions is completely between you and me unless I deem it necessary to inform a third party. And it tends to only be necessary if I think you could potentially harm someone. Okay?"

I nod slowly, studying her. "Okay." My lips quirk up a bit. "Trust issues, huh? Well, at least I can see that you're competent." She's also wrong, not that she needs to know that, but competent. If she could manage to stay focused on me and my potential problems when I'm attacking her integrity, then maybe this is worth a shot.

"Yes, well, I would hope I could _at least_ be competent after doing this for the last decade. So, how about we start with your adoptive family and see where that leads us?"

I shrug. "I wasn't lying before. They're fine." Except Kyoya, who has been beyond amazing.

Her eyebrow raises as she questions my truthfulness. "So that spiel before…? You weren't afraid of saying something bad about the Ootoris?"

"Nope." My smile widens. Maybe she'll start to realized her incorrect assessment and learn not to assume things. "I owe Mr. Ootori a lot for taking me in. I honestly don't see much of him, but that's fine with me. When I do see him he's perfectly nice. Mrs. Ootori is kind as well and I've conversed with her occasionally at mealtimes, but like her husband her presence is rather sparce. I see Kyoya plenty, and he's been great. The only other Ootori who still lives at home is Akito. He's working on his doctorate and MBA so he keeps to himself even more than I do, I think. And who can blame him with all the studying he probably does? The staff are great and very helpful when I need something. Um, lets see, I think that's everyone."

She stopped writing soon after starting, apparently not finding anything useful in my rundown of the family. She taps her pen a few times on her paper before speaking. "I'm very glad to hear all that, though I would encourage you to seek out and get to know Mr. and Mrs. Ootori better. It's important for someone your age to have positive adult role models in their life."

I almost take offense to that. I had two _wonderful_ role models. Don't they count for anything? Just because they're dead doesn't mean their influence has disappeared! But I keep quiet. She means _actively_ in my life. She didn't mean anything negative by her words. And the last thing I need is an outburst that makes her question if I have rage issues.

I nod my understanding. Nothing wrong here.

"Great! So, while we're on the subject of parents, I'd love to hear about your mother. I know she was taken from you at a young age." She sounds so sweet and caring and delicate when broaching this sensitive subject. I wonder how many years of training it took to get that down?

"My mother was a lawyer. She could've went to some big law firm and made lots of corporate money, but that's not the type of person she was. Mom worked hard to help the common man and she loved what she did. I plan to follow in her footsteps. Despite how busy her work kept her, mom always made time for Dad and me. She loved us more than anything. She died when I was 5, after being sick for several months."

"That had to have been hard. It's never a pleasant experience, watching a loved one deteriorate." She's still writing as she talks, all while looking at me, pity in her eyes. How do people do that? Write while talking. I always end up writing what I'm saying and have to scribble it out, scrambling to figure out what it was I wanted to write in the first place. ' _Mother was a loved one deterio- no no no that's not right!_ _'_

I shake the thought off. Ignore what she's writing; it doesn't matter in the long run. "Some people think it's better that way. Knowing what's coming, being able to prepare and say goodbye." I look away from her, focusing on the motivational posters directly in front of me. Most of them are various scenes in nature – a wave hitting a beach, a steep precipice, sun rays shining through a forest, a cub of some sort searching a snowy expanse – each with some big, bold word under them – SUCCESS, ENDURANCE, PERSISTENCE, POTENTIAL – that only have a vague relation to the depicted scene. They have quotes or definitions in smaller print that I don't try to make out.

"Do you think it's better?" she asks, focus now completely on me.

I should have an answer for that. I expected mom to die, but dad was a surprise. I got to say goodbye to mom, not dad. They both suffered, though dad not nearly as long as mom. Which is better? The agony and waiting, helpless as you watch someone's health decline, or the sudden shock of seeing a pale face that was full of life just hours earlier? If I lose someone else, how do I want them to go? How would people prefer _I_ go?

I shake my head. "I don't know."

She nods, as if I'm making perfect sense. Shouldn't I, of all people, _know_? "Death is hard, however it's come by." She adjusts her position in her chair, crossing the opposite leg over and preparing to write again. "How about your father. Can you tell me about him?"

"My father…cared. So much. After mom died he did his best to take care of me all by himself. He was a cross-dresser-" I stop the second I see the minute raise of her eyebrows. It takes her a few seconds to look up at me, face questioning why I've stopped. I decide she doesn't need anymore details about his life. She's interested in his death. "His...passing...was unexpected. I rushed him out of the apartment one morning and got a phone call a few hours later telling me to come to the hospital. I didn't get there soon enough."

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Haruhi." Isn't everybody? Do people really feel the need to say it when I already know? Do they think it makes anything better? "This was pretty recent, right?"

I nod. "November 18th." Nearly half a year ago. His birthday is coming up. The first birthday that he won't age another year. What am I supposed to do then?

"I'm surprised you waited this long to talk to someone. Most people want to talk pretty soon after the big changes in their lives. You must be very strong to have dealt with this by yourself all this time."

Heh, I don't know about strong. STRENGTH is another motivational poster. A tiger stares contemplatively into the distance, and I take the time to read the small print underneath him. It says: "True strength is not in showing the world how strong you are but having the strength to win the battles the world knows nothing about." I think I'm losing the battles.

"I didn't want to talk to anyone."

"I think most people don't really _want_ to, but it can help a great deal. It's cathartic to get your thoughts out of your head and into the open. It can lighten the burden."

"Burden?"

"Yes. Our thoughts can be a great burden, don't you think? It's a little different for everyone. In the case of a death in the family, a lot of people feel like they're to blame, or that they could have prevented the tragedy. With depression, people blame themselves for a number of things that aren't actually their fault or they see in a skewed light. With something more specific – let's say trust issues – our thoughts have a tendency to go around and around the same subject, validating our own version of events. For example, after an adult becomes absent in our life we might begin to think other adults will follow suit, and start to interpret every action as a precursor to their leaving. We might try to distance ourselves so the blow won't hurt as much, and we validate our actions in our head so much that we forget how low the likelihood of past tragedies repeating themselves truly is."

Wow. That transition was flawless. She's referring to the Ootoris. She thinks I don't have a relationship with them because I'm afraid of them dying like my actual parents did. Does she think I don't trust adults in general because the only two adults that ever mattered in my life are gone? Should I correct her? Could she be right? The Ootoris are busy, which is why I hardly speak to them, but I _could_ try harder to know them. Why haven't I done that? Mrs. Ootori seems sweet.

"Telling someone else our thoughts allows for a second opinion. It helps to untangle reality from the falsities we tell ourselves. Someone thinks everything is their fault? Here's why it isn't. Someone believes there's nothing left for them in this life? Here's a list of reasons and ways for them to hold on. When we let someone else in, it's easier to fight off the loneliness and despair that can try to take over. Do you understand?"

I nod. She never once referred to me. Her whole speech was very general, full of 'we' and 'people,' never throwing any kind of accusation my way. Making it sound like _everyone_ has these issues. Like everyone's thoughts betray them on a regular basis. Yet it was still so very pointed. Loss, depression, inadequacy, suicidal thoughts, (yet to be decided on) trust issues. It was specifically tailored to me.

Does she do that to everyone? Does she have a plethora of these speeches at the ready for every scenario, just waiting to cut and paste together to fit her needs? Is she just assuming these are my issues or does she know? I guess Kyoya let 'suicidal thoughts' out of the bag, which basically points to depression, and 'loss' is obvious… So she knows. It was all on purpose.

This is all happening too fast. I just finally told Kyoya what was going on and Honey knows about my issues, and apparently Mori is somewhat in-the-know, but the rest of my friends are clueless! How can I talk to this complete stranger?

"Well, Haruhi, that about does it for our time today."

I glance at the clock on the wall and sure enough, an hour has passed since I stepped in here. Dr. Kaneko sets her clipboard aside and stands up.

"I'm going to give you some homework, okay?" My brows scrunch together, and she chuckles lightly. "It's nothing too hard, I promise! I want you to talk to Mrs. Ootori twice before our next session, okay? And I don't mean a 'Hello' in passing. I want you to hold two separate, whole conversations with her. They can be about anything you want."

I nod and follow her to the door. She opens it for me and we say our goodbyes.

::::::

I roll onto my back, tossing my arms straight out on either side in a huff. I can't sleep! It's technically Sunday now, but my body still says Saturday. If I could just drift off for a second, maybe I could reset to the proper day and just get up and start being productive. But it's not happening, regardless of how tired I am. Why can't I just fricken sleep? This seems to be happening more and more.

I just met the psychologist today – well, yesterday. The day before that was the incident that caused Kyoya to schedule the immediate appointment. I'm supposed to see Dr. Kaneko twice a week for the time being, Tuesday and Friday after school.

Twice. A. Week.

I don't know if I'll survive!

Quit being melodramatic, Haruhi. It wasn't that bad. She asks a question, you answer. She departs some vague insight, you nod along like the whole world is finally coming into focus. Easy peasy.

Keep this up for a few weeks and everything will be just fine. She'll let me off the hook and Kyoya will be satisfied. I won't have to tell anyone else about the mistakes I've made. Not even Kaoru.

Who has called three times today. No, yesterday. Twice in a row while I was in my session, and once that night after dinner. He left nearly identical messages the last two times. _Hey, Haruhi! I just wanted to talk if you've got a minute. Call me back!_

There were several texts too.

 _Haruhi?_

 _Hey, what are you up to?_

 _Haruhi!_

 _Are you ignoring me?_

 _Talk to meeee!_

And more of the same. After dinner I felt bad that I was actually ignoring him and finally sent him a reply, apologizing for being so busy, and that maybe we'd have a chance to talk tomorrow. Which is now today. Because it's already Sunday.

And I'm _still_ awake.

I toss the covers off and stand up. Maybe a glass of water will help.

It's cooler in the hallway, but at least I finally learned my lesson. No more shorts for me. Warm, fuzzy pants and matching flowery button up sleep shirt, courtesy of the twins who decided I need an entirely new wardrobe because of the season change. Why do they always have to give me flowery crap?

The house is quiet, sleeping. Like I should be. When I arrive at the kitchen I'm surprised to see movement through one of the windows. Maybe it's an animal? I'll have to investigate. Not like I'm doing anything else with all this free time.

I open the back door and poke my head through, looking around. I must've made some noise because the human-shaped shadow in the yard looks my way.

"Haruhi-chan, is that you?" Mrs. Ootori takes a couple steps closer to confirm her suspicions before I get a chance to speak. "Sweetheart, what are you doing up so late? It's almost 3!"

I open the door the rest of the way and slip out to join her. It's warmer here than in the house, though the brick path is cold on my bare feet. "I couldn't sleep. Why are you up?"

"Oh I'm a bit of a night owl myself. Come," she gestures for me to follow, "do you like astronomy?" I've never really thought about it. I don't _dislike_ astronomy, but it's never really mattered to me. Except the moon phases, which have recently become strangely important. It's a new moon tonight. We come to a stop in the soft grass at an expensive-looking telescope. "Tonight is a good night to stargaze. It's a bit of a hobby of mine." She takes a quick peak through the telescope and looks back at me. "Here, look."

As I move forward to do so she explains, "This is Saturn. He's found a home in the middle of the constellation Scorpius for now. Later this month he should be moving into Libra!" She pauses as I situate myself over the eye piece. "What do you think?"

"Wow." It's beautiful. It's not like I've never seen a picture of Saturn, but I guess I never knew a telescope could give you such a good view. It's yellow and pink, the rings are more of a grey-blue. There's so much detail! I can actually see separate rings instead of the blob I was expecting. "I've never seen Saturn through a telescope."

"Beautiful, isn't it? It's extra bright tonight because there's no moonlight to get in the way. You can even see it without the telescope!" I look up with her as she first traces Scorpius and then helps me locate Saturn. With the naked eye it doesn't actually look any different than a star, so I hope I'm looking at the right spot.

"Earlier tonight Jupiter was out too! Unfortunately he's scurried out of view." She sighs like this is some great misfortune. I've never seen Mrs. Ootori as animated as she is right now. She's like a kid playing with their favorite toy. Usually she's more subdued, pulled together. Now I'm thinking she just comes off like that because she doesn't get much sleep.

That's also probably why I haven't spent time with her, no matter what Dr. Kaneko thinks. Mrs. Ootori apparently spends most of her active time while I'm sleeping, and probably naps when I'm awake. That's a perfectly good reason that I haven't gotten close to the woman. I frown as the doctor comes to mind. Does tonight count as a conversation? I really haven't said much…

"How long have you been into astronomy?" I ask, wanting to make sure this is, indeed, a conversation. Not that I care what the psychologist wants. But because this side of Mrs. Ootori is compelling. I want to know her.

She looks to me and smiles. "Oh, I've loved the stars for as long as I can remember. I wanted to be an astrologist when I grew up, but practicality told me that wasn't a great idea." She sighs again and I feel bad for her. Pressure to go into the family business and make a lot of money isn't as big of a deal for commoners. They have a freedom in that regard that the elite don't have the luxury of. "I come out here often. Anytime I know there's going to be a unique celestial event, or whenever the new moon allows me to see a bit clearer, or just to relax."

I nod as I watch her adjust the telescope. Well, I think that's enough socializing for the time being. "I'm going back in. I'm sorry I disturbed you."

"Oh, nonsense! Please, join me anytime you like, Haruhi-chan." Her smile is so warm and inviting. I might just take her up on the offer.

I make my way back up to my room, realizing too late that I never got a drink. I lay down without it, not needing a distraction anymore.

:::::

At school on Monday Kaoru won't leave me alone. He's constantly grabbing at my good hand to hold it and double checking the bandage on my cut hand, making sure it's well covered. As if being handsy wasn't enough, he keeps trying to get me alone. He has an endless supply of excuses to try to get away from Hikaru, none of which work all that well. Unfortunately, Hikaru seems to be following Kaoru's lead and is clinging to me more than usual. I want them to quit it.

But I know Kaoru won't, and therefore I'm stuck with Hikaru too.

I can't say I'm surprised that he wants to talk to me. He's been trying all weekend. He even showed up at the house yesterday, and I had to make a hurried excuse to leave. I'm not ready to talk to him, especially knowing what he likely wants to talk about. He saw. But does he _know_? Logically, if I saw someone with a sharp piece of china held to their wrist, plenty of blood already coating it and the floor, what would I think? Shit. He has to know.

But I have no inclination to talk about it. Haven't I talked enough? Didn't I just spill my guts to Kyoya a few nights ago? Aren't I going to be forced into doing it again with Dr. Kaneko? Can't the forces of the universe just let me off with a pass this time?

Kaoru never gets the opportunity he needs in order to bring it up, due in no small part to my own diligence in keeping other people around as much as possible. There's no way Kaoru will bring it up around other people. Right? He has more tact then that. I hope.

The day drags on, but eventually I'm finally free. Well, as much as confining myself to my room can be called free.

When my phone rings interrupting my English homework, I'm frustrated to find Kaoru's name on the caller ID. I never pegged him as someone who can't take a hint!

Find an excuse, Haruhi; you can talk your way out of this. The phone is still ringing, and I swear his name is taunting me, seeming to pulse bigger with every shrill tone. Staring at it isn't helping my thought process at all. What do I say, what do I say, _what do I say_?

When it suddenly stops I breathe a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.

Until it rings again, new life and energy brought to the ringtone, demanding that I answer. He isn't going to give up. Maybe I can just divert conversation to something else. Anything else. I hit the 'Talk' button.

"Hey, Kaoru. Need help with the math?" Good start, Haruhi. Act oblivious, and keep to easy topics.

"When have I ever needed help with math, Haruhi? That's not why I'm calling."

"Oh!" I jump in as soon as he finishes his sentence, not wanting to leave an opening for him. "You're right; don't know what I was thinking. Must be the history report then. He gave us a pretty wide selection of topics. Need help narrowing it down?"

"Haruhi," No no no, I know that voice. He knows exactly what I'm up to and he's having none of it. I'm not ready for this. Stall!

"No? Well maybe you can help _me_ choose then. I was thinking either-"

"Stop, Haruhi. I don't need help, and you _never_ need help. What happened Friday? And don't say you don't know what I mean! You avoided me all weekend, so I _know_ something is up."

And there it is. The dreaded question. I don't have an answer for him. I can't explain what happened. I can't tell _another_ person how fucked up I am. I Stand up from my desk and grab Galen off my bed, squeezing him to my chest. I remaining silent on the line.

"Haruhi? Please, tell me what happened. When I walked in you..." Kaoru pauses and I hope that means he's going to drop it. Let him draw his own conclusions, just don't ask me to talk about it. Please, Kaoru. Suddenly remember that you have something you have to go do, instead of having this conversation. Where's Hikaru with his inconvenient timing at? "...you looked like you were about to cut your wrist."

The question is clear in his voice. _Were you going to_? He's silent, awaiting my answer. I'm mute, unable to confirm what he already knows or deny it and spout the lie he would prefer to hear.

Apparently he can only wait so long. "You can talk to me, Haruhi. I won't say anything. Not even to Hikaru. He's off playing video games right now so there's no one else around to hear. Will you tell me what's going on?"

I squeeze Galen harder as I pace in a circle in the middle of my room. Maybe I can talk to Kaoru. He would be the easier of the twins for sure. And he already _knows_. So that's easier, too. More so than with Honey, who didn't have any idea before I told him. Can I do this?

"When we were in middle school, I started getting depressed." Kaoru's voice is low, maybe making sure it doesn't travel to other parts of his house. The revelation shocks me, my whole body freezing up. I almost drop the phone. "I loved Hikaru, but I started feeling like it wasn't enough. Like _I_ wasn't enough for other people. No one wanted to know me as an individual. No one cared. Hikaru didn't understand how much I wanted other people to like us, which just made me feel worse. If he was happy, why couldn't I be? What was so wrong with me that I couldn't enjoy things the way Hikaru did?" He sounds contemplative, like he's still not entirely sure of the answer to his questions.

I don't know when the last time I took a breath is. I can't believe what I'm hearing right now! It's still Kaoru speaking, right? My good friend who's full of life and energy and always having fun? My Kaoru?

"It got worse over time. There was this constant pressure to just be okay. And then… I can't explain how it happened, but somehow I found myself in the bathroom, with a slit across my wrist and plans to do more." I don't think Galen is going to survive much longer with how hard I'm squeezing. How is this happening right now? Kaoru _cut_ himself. _Kaoru_ cut himself.

"Kaoru," his name sounds hoarse and strangled from my lips, and I have no idea how to follow that up. What do you say when someone shares this kind of confession with you? What did Honey say to me? I'm drawing a complete blank. Kaoru doesn't seem to mind though.

"It's kind of funny actually – well, not _funny_ – but Hikaru walked in on me poised exactly how I walked in on you. Which is how I know exactly what you were going to do if I didn't show up. Hikaru stopped me that day. Slowly, things got better. It wasn't easy, for either of us, but he helped me through it. Hikaru never let me cut again, and I'm never going to let you, Haruhi."

How is it that my friends keep making me want to cry? But not necessarily in a bad way. "I'm so sorry you went through that, Kaoru." Fricken hypocrite. How did I allow that to come out of my mouth when I _hate_ those words being directed at me? It doesn't make anything better! But I can't think of anything else to say. If he were here, I would hug him, and words wouldn't be needed.

"Thanks, Haruhi. I understand if you don't want to talk about it. I know I never liked to, and you don't have to. But I'm here if you _do_ want to, and I would probably understand better than just about anyone."

I want to tell him. I feel like maybe I could. But I can't get the words out fast enough.

"I guess I'll leave you alone. Goodnight, Haruhi."

I can't even manage to say goodbye before the line goes dead.

At some point I started shaking. I only notice when I pull the phone from my ear and it's unsteady in my hand. I stare at it, completely lost.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** I myself am not, nor have I ever known or had an experience with a Therapist, Psychologist, Psychiatrist, Counselor, Shrink or anyone else of that nature. I hope I did alright! There will be more of her to come, so I'll try to hone my inner Psychologist as much as possible.


	7. Chapter Seven

**A/N:** I don't totally love this chapter. Sorry. The next one will be better, I promise.

Chapter Seven

Tuesday, I don't say a word to Kaoru. I hardly look at him. Hikaru takes this to mean that the two of us are having a fight and makes it his duty to find out what put us at odds. Though he mentions nothing of trying to _fix_ our supposed broken friendship.

Kaoru, on the other hand, doesn't seem at all perturbed by my silence. He acts like nothing is wrong. Like nothing has changed. He doesn't even act like he plans to allude to the fact that we so much as had a conversation yesterday! How can he be so casual? He just told me – what is probably – his biggest secret! And it doesn't even phase him.

How do I get to that point? Where I can just mention something so personal and not care what other people are going to think or say or do in reaction. How did I ever _stop_ being like that? Other people didn't used to matter to me. I need to get back to that frame of mind. How did he learn to be so cool about it? Like it's no big deal that he sliced his wrist open with maybe the intention of ending everything.

Oh my god, his wrist!

Does he have a scar? I've never noticed one, but is that because there isn't one or because I've never looked. There probably isn't one. Because he's rich. And rich people can pay for fancy treatments that basically make the past disappear.

I try to steal glances when he's taking notes to see if his wrist has any sort of blemish. Did he mention yesterday which wrist he cut? No, I don't think so, but he's right-handed, so common sense would say his left. Because he would naturally grab the razor – was it even a razor? I don't think he mentioned that either – with his dominant hand.

So I just need a small glance at his left wrist. Just one moment to determine if there's a mark.

I've never been one for covert operations, so it shouldn't surprise me that Kaoru notices my intentions. When his left hand comes to rest, palm up, on his desk, giving me a clear view of the wrist I've been obsessing over, I can't help but freeze. His right hand is still lazily taking notes as he keeps his attention on the lecture, but it's so obvious he placed it there for me.

There's a scar. It's thin, and short, and probably not nearly as bad as it once was. You really can't even tell that it's there unless you're looking for it.

I force my eyes back to my own notes. Or what should have been my notes, if I was able to concentrate on the lesson for even a second. But I can't because _he really did cut his wrist!_ And he's doing it again; he's being so _open_ about what he's been through. His left arm is now propping his head up, further proving its previous placement was for my benefit.

Will my palm scar? It required stitches, but that's supposed to help prevent a scar, right? Will I forever be forced to look at my mistake? Because that's what it was. A stupid mistake that I would take back if I could.

Especially because it meant breaking my promise to Kyoya which forced me into sessions with Dr. Kaneko, who I have to see later today. Yeah, I would definitely hit the 'undo' button if it existed.

At the final bell I rush out of class, not because I think Kaoru might try to finally bring _it_ up, but because I have no idea how to talk to him now. It's too late to try to make him feel better, not that I would have a clue how to do that, and everything else just feels hollow. I can't believe I tried to divert the conversation to homework yesterday. Stupid.

::::::

The Ootori's car is waiting outside the school to take me to the doctor's office. Kyoya is standing in front of it, waiting for me. Waiting to make sure I show up. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Kyoya. He doesn't ride with me at least. Maybe I can convince the driver to take me elsewhere. I could buy a cake and take it to Honey. I'd rather talk to him anyway. It'll never work.

Last time I was here I hardly had time to take in my surroundings. Saturday wasn't a usual business day, so there was no waiting. I was ushered straight into the office. But today I get to act like a normal patient. I have to sign in with the receptionist who tells me to have a seat. It'll be a few minutes until Dr. Kaneko can see me.

The waiting room has a doorway with no door. No way to be closed off. I bet they get claustrophobic patients. The wall is like a giant glass window, but it's blurry, frosted, so you can only make out shadows on the other side. For privacy maybe. From in here I can't see the doorway to the doctor's office. A patient could leave with a bit of anonymity. The room is tiny with only 4 chairs. I guess you don't need more for this kind of doctor. The chair closest to the entrance is occupied by a middle-aged woman. She glances up as I walk by, then turns her attention back to her book. A child-size table and chair sits in one corner, unused. In fact it looks like it's hardly been used _ever_. I guess kids that have to come see a child psychologist don't really feel up to playing.

I pick the seat furthest from the woman. There's a glass end table in between the two middle chairs with a few magazines on it that I eye. I'm too nervous to try reading any of them, and pull out my phone instead. A message from Hikaru demands to know where I ran off to. Still nothing from Kaoru. Does he regret telling me his secret?

"Mom." I glance up at the voice, as does the woman I passed. She stands quickly and makes her way to meet a waiting boy. He's probably a few years younger than me. I wonder what has him screwed up enough to need to be here.

It's only a minute later when the receptionist appears, informing me I can go in now. Lucky me.

"Hello, Haruhi! If you'll just close the door behind you." The doctor is standing behind her desk, shuffling some papers around. A drawer opens and closes, more shuffling. I watch on. Her harsh bun is perfectly in place again. It's bad for your hair to keep it consistantly pulled tight like that. I wonder if she knows.

"Please, have a seat. I'll join you in just a moment." I sit in the same chair as before, trying to make myself relax back into it. I remain rigid. I really don't want to be here again.

She's quick to follow me, as promised, trusty clipboard in hand. "How are you today, Haruhi?"

"Oh, you know. Nothing out of the ordinary." Saying _fine_ would be a lie.

A quick note on her clipboard. I wonder if she writes out full sentences on that thing. It's probably more shorthand notes than anything. Though some look like they must be scribbles. I bet she doodles sometimes. That could be an interesting challenge. Drawing a picture one line at a time, and at slightly different places on the paper so it doesn't look like you're "writing" in the same place each time. It would probably have to be something abstract.

"So, did you do your homework? I asked you to hold two separate conversations with Mrs. Ootori. How did that go?"

I shrug. "I only talked to her once."

"Well that's certainly a start! Tell me, did you absolutely hate it?"

"No...it was fine. We didn't really talk long, or much." I shrug again, frowning. I've never been one to fail at homework.

"That's okay. I just wanted you to put forth the effort, and you did. And not hating it really makes it a success, don't you think? So I want you to keep up with her, okay? When you see Mrs. Ootori around the house don't just nod and pass by. Stop, ask what she's up to or how her day has been. You could continue whatever small conversation you two started before. Small snippets are fine, just so long as you try.

"Let's move on. Why don't you tell me about your friends?"

Why? What do they have to do with why I'm here? Is this a trick to get me to say something she wants to hear?

"What do you want to know?" I ask nonchalantly. Can't have her thinking I'm hiding anything about my friends. I'm an open book as far as she needs to know.

"Oh, how about what you like to do together or how close you are?" She just sounds curious, as if this was a normal conversation instead of a pointed interview where she tries to divulge every hidden detail of my life. Maybe I'm just paranoid. Or tired. Kaoru's confession didn't exactly lead to a restful night.

"Mostly I hang out with my clubmates. A couple of them are in my class, and the rest are upperclassmen. Kyoya Ootori is one of them." She arches an eyebrow in surprise and then nods minutely in understanding. "We're all really close. I have a few friends from my old school that I keep in touch with as well, but I don't really see them anymore."

"Well that's wonderful! What kind of club are you in?"

I stare at the wall, pretending not to hear the question. FRIENDSHIP has caught my eye. A group of kittens seem to be enjoying themselves.

"Haruhi?" She asks when I've been silent to long.

"Hmm?" I turn back towards her. "Oh, sorry! Yeah, my friends are really great. I'm lucky to have them. I don't know where I'd be now if weren't for them."

And there goes her pen. She probably thinks I'm inattentive or have a short attention span or maybe that I'm just rude. As long as I don't have to explain the Host club, that's fine with me. Who knows what kind of problems she would assign to me if she knew I had the whole school fooled about my gender, and how I used their misunderstanding.

"What do you mean by that? Why don't you know where you'd be?"

"Oh!" I guess I said too much in my haste to hide the truth. I shouldn't be making her more curious. It's something I should work on. "Just that they've all really helped me out since…well, since I kind of shut down _after_. They kind of kept me from losing it."

I wonder how often she goes through pens. "Ah, I see. Do you spend much time with any of them outside of club hours?"

"Yeah." Too much, in fact. They never leave me alone. "We do all kinds of stuff together."

"Well I'm glad to hear that. Is it always as a group? Do you interact with any of them one-on-one? Would you say you have a best friend among them?"

Once again, it matters because…?

I shrug. "We have fun as a group." She doesn't need to know that the fun is forced on me more than half the time. And I don't think I can say I'm friends with one of them more than the others. I can't imagine the host club existing without each of my friends.

"Well, it's nice to have a lot of friends who get along." Yes, it _is_ nice. So why does she sound like she doesn't approve? Am I _supposed_ to have a best friend or something? Is that better than having multiple good friends?

"Let's shift gears, Haruhi." She looks more serious now, not mean, but no longer like we're just having a friendly conversation. "I'd like to know about what happened after your mom died."

Well that was an abrupt change. "What do you mean? She was gone and then it was just dad and me."

"You mentioned that he did his best to take care of you, but I have to say that doesn't sound like he fully succeeded."

I open my mouth to retort, to yell that she doesn't know what she's talking about. Dad did a great job! She doesn't let me speak, holding her hand up to stop me. "I'm not attacking him or putting him down, Haruhi. I'm asking how much responsibility fell to you. As a 5 year-old, how much of your own care did you have to see to?"

"Nothing _fell_ to me," I nearly snarl, fuming at her perception of my dad. "If dad had his way he would have done all the cleaning and cooking between working and playing with me. He would've studied with me any subject I was interested in and helped me cram for tests when I was older. He was a _great_ dad!"

I look away from her, arms over my chest as I finally sit back in the chair. I have to calm down. Last session I held my tongue, not wanting 'rage issues' added to my profile. So much for that. But I can keep it from getting worse. Deep breaths.

"I didn't mean to imply that he was anything but great. I apologize." She's trying to be soothing, further proof that I let a bit too much anger into my tirade. "So you didn't _have_ to do anything, then. I understand. But you did, right? Can you tell me what role you took on? How soon after your mother's death?"

"Right away. Dad nearly fell apart so I did as much as I could to help. I took on most of the cleaning so dad had time to rest, and when I was a bit older I took on most of the cooking. Why do you need to know?" I'm going to have to start asking that every time she opens her mouth because this whole conversation seems completely pointless.

"Just searching for the differences, Haruhi." Her voice is still soft, trying her hardest to keep from riling me up. Joke's on her, the sound of her pen scratching across the paper is keeping me on edge. I hope she runs out of ink.

"Differences in what?" I spit out too harshly. "Between a child who had a perfect life and me, who grew up a little sooner than I should have? Between my father and whatever your definition of a _good_ father is? What?" She probably thinks I'm yelling now. I nearly am.

"The differences between your reaction to your mother's death, and the reaction to your father's death," she states matter-of-factly.

What? I grieved, that was my reaction. She's watching me, probably waiting for an outburst. I've set a precedent now. So I'll remain quiet, staring back at her until she's ready to elaborate or take the conversation in another direction.

We sit in silence a few minutes, occasionally interrupted by the scratch of her pen, before she finally continues. "I find it interesting, Haruhi, how different your experiences were. I'm sure there are many things that could effect this, but I think you've already highlighted some of the key components."

She pauses to look at her notes and I take the opportunity to roll my eyes. Whatever she's come up with should be good.

"For starters, you 'shut down' after your dad died, but not after your mom died. Why do you think that is? It isn't what most people would consider ordinary. Think about any children you know, Haruhi." The neighboring kids are all that come to mind. "If one was to lose their mother, the person they are closest to in the world, their roll model, what would they do?" Probablystop running around playing as much? "For one, they might not understand what has happened. Death can be a difficult concept for a child. But then, when – no, _if_ – they realize what has happened, they're understandably going to be upset, but don't yet know how to deal with these feelings. They may act out or constantly ask the same blunt questions about the death. They sometimes cling to remaining relatives, afraid that another loved one will leave them. At the tender age of 5, this behavior could very well go on for years.

"But you, Haruhi, were not the griever. Your dad 'fell apart' so you willingly took on more responsibility to lighten his load. _You_ were the one to reassure and support. I can't say whether or not you truly understood what happened back then, but your reaction was anything but ordinary. Can you see the kids you know doing what you did?"

I shake my head for her benefit. No, I can't. What else was I supposed to do, starve? Dad could hardly take care of himself the first few days after mom died. He needed me so I was there. The only difference is that other children probably have other family members that can step up in these situations. I just did what had to be done. It's not that weird. I almost want to tell her that.

"Then, as a teenager, you lost your dad. Now, most teens will react how you reacted as a child: they start to take on more responsibility. Again, you 'shut down' after your dad died, which isn't a normal teenage behavior. Teens tend to act like it doesn't bother them as much as it does. They may hang out with friends even more, as a way to distance themselves from the tragedy and to feel more normalcy. But you didn't do that. You broke down. I bet you tried to shut everything out, keep to yourself?" She looks pointedly at me and I look away. "You said your friends helped you, but you probably didn't seek them out as others would.

"That's all perfectly okay. We all react differently to loss. But can you see what I mean now when I say your two reactions are interesting? With your mom, you had a reason to keep it together, to move forward. With your dad, you have idle hands. And therein lies the difference. You don't have to play the role of support, you don't have that distraction, so you don't know what else to do."

That's because there _isn't_ anything else to do. I don't know why I'm still here. Any form of here.

"I think it's time to find a new hobby, Haruhi." I quirk an eyebrow up, anger finally depleted. Now I'm just tired. "You need something to fill your free time, something other than your club. Is there anything you like to do? Maybe some kind of art you could take up?"

I shake my head halfheartedly. I don't like to do much of anything anymore.

"Then your homework this time is simply to think. Come up with some things you'd be willing to try. Do you want to learn to play an instrument? Sculpt? Skateboard? It can be anything you want, and you don't even have to try doing it yet, okay? Just think of some ideas."

I nod once, sitting forward. The session was ending if she was handing out homework. I wonder if they'll all be like these last two where she gives a long speech at the end. I guess if it means I have to say less that's fine with me.

I stand as soon as she opens her mouth to tell me I can go, and exit swiftly.

::::::

Kyoya _happens_ to be walking around the house when I arrive back at the estate.

"Oh, Haruhi, you're home already. How was it?"

"Fine." I shrug a shoulder as I walk by him. No big deal, Kyoya. I didn't get angry and yell at the woman who thinks she's helping. I didn't escape the second I was allowed to. I have no problem going back Thursday.

Hopefully that's how my short reply came across.

"I wouldn't go in there if I was you," Kyoya warns as I head towards my room. I pause and sigh.

"Who is it?" I ask without turning around. I can't say I'm surprised that someone is waiting in my room. It seems at least one of the hosts always is. At least Kyoya understands my aversion.

"The more volatile twin. He's been here nearly half an hour. Barged into my room to _demand_ to know where you were-" I finally whip around to face him, about to protest. "No, Haruhi, I didn't tell him." None of the others know that I'm in therapy. Yet. It's bound to come out eventually, but I'm not ready for that. "I managed to threaten him into leaving me alone, but he refused to actually leave until he saw you. Good luck." Kyoya turns to leave and I watch him go.

I check my phone, wondering if I missed a warning text from Kaoru. Nothing. He must be mad at me for not talking to him all day. I really need to fix that. But first, Hikaru.

I sigh and finally continue to my room. Might as well get this over with.

I expect him to tackle me as soon as I open the door, and brace myself for impact. It doesn't come. Hikaru is laying back on my bed, one knee bent into the air, the opposite foot laying across it and moving in time to whatever beat is playing over his headphones. His eyes are closed. He didn't see or hear me...it's not too late to back out and hide in another room until he gives up and leaves.

I sigh again, closing my door behind me as I walk further into my room. I drop my school bag by my desk and approach my bed. I pull his headphones away from his ear, making him jump, and drop them on his stomach. "What do you want, Hikaru?"

"Haruhi!" He sits up quickly, grabbing his headphones and CD player out of the way. "It's about time! Where have you been?" He tries to pull me down on the bed next to him but I twist just out of his grasp.

"I was out. Why are you here?"

"Out where? Why did you leave school so quickly?"

"It's none of your business, Hikaru. Now, go home so I can work in peace." I pull out my desk chair and sit, illustrating my intentions.

A sly smile slides over Hikaru's face as he slinks to his feet. "Keeping secrets, Haruhi?" He walks behind me and bends so his mouth is right next to my ear. "Was it something embarrassing?" He switches slowlyto the other side. "Was it something...illegal?" I can feel his grin growing, even if I can't see it. "Tell me?" He sounds like he's trying to seduce the information out of me. I just shake my head and pull out my history text. "You know I'll find ou-out," he singsongs. "It'd be easier to just tell me now. I could help keep it secret!"

I'm not sure Hikaru understands how secrets work. I continue to ignore him and try to start on my homework.

Pouting, Hikaru flops backwards onto the bed again. "Fine. But I _will_ find out. So tell me what's up with you and Kaoru then."

I glance at him from the corner of my eye and then back at my work. "What does Kaoru say is up?"

Maybe I can use Hikaru to find out why Kaoru won't talk to me.

"He says _nothing_ is up!" He throws his arms into the air in indignation and then lets them crash down on either side of him. "I'm not blind, Haruhi. Something is going on and no one will tell me what!" He's half whining now.

I smile despite the solemnity of the situation; Hikaru's antics are hard to ignore sometimes. "Well, he's right and you're wrong. Nothing _is_ up."

He abruptly sits up and points an accusing finger at me. "You guys are fighting!"

I finally turn towards him, quirking an eyebrow. "No, we aren't."

"Then why aren't you talking! Is it just a small disagreement?" He crosses his arms over his chest, thinking.

"Nope." A small shake of my head.

"Oh, my god!" His hands close together over his mouth and nose dramatically as he stands up. "Y-you're...no, that can't be!" He starts pacing, shaking his head to himself occasionally. He starts mumbling, "No, he wouldn't, he _couldn't_ , do that. Could he?" and several variations that I don't care to listen to. Let him work out whatever crises he's invented for himself.

I turn back to my homework in peace for a few minutes before my chair is suddenly jerked around to face him. His hands fall on the arm rests as he towers over me. He looks heartbroken. "Are you guys...together? That's it, isn't it? You two are sneaking around behind everyone's backs!" He pushes away from the chair, and backs up several paces, distancing himself.

"No, Hikaru," I say, remorseful. I didn't think he'd come up with something so...absurd. Well, I guess it's not _really_ absurd. Not to jealous Hikaru.

"Just stop lying! It's fine, okay? No big deal. Hope you guys are happy!" He's hurt and yelling, stomping towards the exit.

"Wait, Hikaru!" I jump out of my chair and grab one of his hands, tugging to keep him from pulling further away. "We _aren't_ sneaking around! I prom- no, LOOK AT ME!" I should really yell more. It's so effective! Hikaru stops pulling immediately and turns to face me. He looks on the verge of tears.

I release him and place a hand on either side of his face, forcing him to meet my gaze. I feel like the bandage on my left takes away from the effect. "Kaoru and I are _not_ sneaking around. We never have, we never plan to." Good thing I picked Honey so I can say this without lying. "I _promise_ , Hikaru. Okay?"

He nods slowly and sniffs, looking away from me. He's embarrassed. I pull my hands away, and step back, trying to give him space to compose himself. "Please, Haruhi, tell me what _is_ going on with you two then. It's going to drive me crazy."

I sigh and pull out my phone. Still nothing from Kaoru. I have no idea what to tell Hikaru. Obviously I can't go with the truth. "It's really nothing!" At the flash of anger in his eyes I decide to revise that statement. "Nothing important, anyway. It's silly, really." What's silly, Haruhi? Come up with something good. Think, think!

"Not silly to me."

"It's a bet!" I blurt, finally finding inspiration. "We bet to see who could go longest without talking to the other. That's it! That's why we haven't been talking and are somewhat avoiding each other. Easier not to talk if the other isn't around!" It's brilliant, and definitely something Hikaru should believe.

He laughs. "A bet? That's the big secret? Why didn't you just say so! And what kind of bet is that? You guys are kind of lame."

I chuckle too, agreeing. "I did say it was silly. I don't even remember how it came up!" I let him laugh for another minute before returning to my desk. "Well, if that's all, I really do want to do homework..."

"Oh! Alright, see ya at school, Haruhi." He waves a few fingers at me as he walks out, showing none of the animosity, despair, or curiosity he had displayed just minutes prier. With any luck he'll completely forget that I still have a secret he wanted to uncover.

I lay my head back in my chair, taking a moment to relax. Hikaru can take a lot out of a person. I look down at my phone, still in my hand, and hit Kaoru's number on impulse.

He picks up on the second ring, much too soon for my liking. "Hey, Haruhi." Caller ID should never have been invented. Then, I could hang up and he'd never know that I called. "Haruhi? You there?"

"Yeah. Hi," I say, belatedly.

"What's up?"

"I just wanted to give you a heads up." I don't know why I'm so nervous. "Hikaru was here and I had to make up a reason for...today." For us not talking to or looking at or at all interacting with each other. For the completely silence caused by your confession and my complete lack of any clue what to do about it. "I told him we bet on who could go longest without talking to the other."

A chuckle on the other end of the line calms me down. This is just Kaoru. I've talked to him a million times. Nothing has changed. "Quick thinking. I'll play along if he brings it up."

He's silent. I'm silent. What do I say now? I could thank him? He speaks again as I open my mouth. "How is your hand? I saw the bandage is still on it."

I look down at the wound in question, squeezing my hand lightly into a fist. "It's healing. I'm supposed to get the stitches out Friday." How long were _your_ stitches in? Did you need stitches? Were your cuts too shallow? I want to ask, but I can't ask him to talk about his secret when I'm not willing to do the same.

"That's really good to hear."

Silence again. I don't remember what we used to talk about. It was easy, once upon a time.

"Well I guess I'm gonna go. I'll see you tomorrow, Haruhi."

No! How do I keep him on the line? What do I say? Please, keep talking to me! I want to talk to you. I want to tell you, I just don't know how! Please, don't go yet!"Yeah, okay," I whisper, not knowing what else to do.

The line dies, and I pull the phone from my face. His name and the call duration are flashing, taunting me because it was so short. Before I have time to process what I'm doing I've hit Kaoru's speed dial and hold it back up to my ear again.

"Haruhi?" he answers, confusion evident.

I tell him everything.

I tell him about slicing my hand open and how it wasn't enough.

I tell him how alone I feel and have felt and will always feel.

I tell him how Kyoya saved my life and I tell him what stupidity went through my head to cause me to need saving.

I tell him about the poetic justice that would be a lightning strike bringing about my end, and all the other stray morbid ideas that have invaded so many of my thoughts.

I tell him how much I miss swimming, but how afraid I am to go back into the water. How my thoughts inevitably seem to turn back to the possibility of drowning and how nice that sounds. Except that it _doesn't._

I tell him about breaking my promise to Kyoya and how that makes me worse than scum. And I tell him all about my punishment for doing so and how much I hate talking to someone that thinks they understand absolutely everything and likes to think they can, therefore, fix everything when they most certainly can't.

I tell him about the horrible thing I did to Honey on the Ferris Wheel and how much of a horrible person my desperation makes me. But I keep Honey's later actions to myself. That's as much his secret as mine, and I won't go around spilling other's secrets.

I tell him how much I miss my dad, how much I miss my mom, how much I miss _before_.

And it's all jumbled together and out of order. I'm pretty sure half of it doesn't make any sense with how rushed and panicked it is.

And Kaoru doesn't just understand, he _knows_. He gets it. Kaoru has been there. Maybe he hasn't suffered the loss of a parent, but he knows desperation. He knows loneliness, and inadequacy, and how hard it is to feel like you aren't safe in your own head. He doesn't interrupt, and just listens to absolutely everything I have to say until the words stop tumbling out. And when he finally does speak, it isn't full of pity or loathing or anger or anything else I might've expected and would've hated to hear. It's full of determination.

"We'll get through this together, Haruhi. You're never alone, I promise you that. If anyone were to take a look at your life, they wouldn't see defeat and weakness like you think; they'd see strength. You've overcome _so_ much. You've survived. And you're going to keep on surviving because that's who you are. We're all here to help you do just that. So lean on us some more, 'kay? We're here for you."

* * *

Thank you all, again, for the reviews. They seriously mean so much to me. It's always nice to hear when I'm doing something right.


	8. Chapter Eight

**A/N:** I've been trying to post this for a few days but FFnet has been denying me.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all my reviewers! You guys really know how to make a gal feel good about herself! Not a lot of host interaction in this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

* * *

Chapter Eight

It's drizzling out. Not storming, no fear. Just rain. It's like a mist. I can't see far beyond my window. I sigh and walk away. Mrs. Ootori won't be outside in this weather. I wonder if she's still up somewhere else in the house? It's only one in the morning. If she's really a night owl I bet she's awake.

Maybe Kyoya is still up too. Not that he would be able to help me sleep. Maybe a walk will.

I stroll out of my room and down the hall. No light coming from Kyoya's room, but he might be having trouble sleeping too. Didn't he say that was a problem for him? I don't knock to find out. He would just make a big deal out of my insomnia. I wonder if Kaoru told Kyoya that we talked?

I shake my head. It doesn't matter. I'll probably tell him myself in the morning. And then he'll tell me to tell Hikaru next, for Kaoru's sake, to which I'll refuse, then he'll insist, and then we'll lapse into an aggravated silence. On my part anyway. Maybe I'll just let him find out from Kaoru.

I don't know how I end up in the formal dinning room. All the chairs are neatly pushed in and evenly spaced from each other. I wonder if one of the maids has a touch of OCD or if the Ootori's have certain specifications for the help to follow. Who would freak out more if I moved them all just slightly? I snort and roll my eyes. I'm starting to sound like Hikaru and Kaoru.

I haven't been in here much lately. Kyoya seems satisfied with the weight I've gained, and no longer _requires_ me to attend extravagant meals. He still checks in on me regularly, making sure I've had enough to eat for the day. Maybe a snack will help me sleep. I continue through the room to the equally empty and spotless kitchen.

I pull the right side door on the fridge open, then the left. I look at each shelf and along the doors. I nudge some bigger containers out of the way to peer into the back of the fridge. Nothing. I close the doors with a frown. The pantry is much the same. Plenty of food stocking both, but nothing to eat. I guess I'm not really hungry anyway. Just bored, restless. I know one way for sure to fix that. Then I'd be too busy not existing to be bored.

Maybe I could take up cooking. I did most of the cooking _before._ That would give me something to do. And cooking can be time consuming. No more idle hands. If that would even be okay with the cook. What if she takes it as an affront? As if I'm saying I don't like her cooking so I want to make my own food? Or I could just be in her way. She has to cook for a household of people, including the staff. I'm sure she doesn't need some amateur chef in her way.

At least it's an idea to give Kaneko, even if I have no intention of following through on it.

Moving on with my nightly promenade, I come across the Great room. It's much like a lower class family would call a family room or living room. There's seating options, coffee tables, shelving units, tasteful decorations, a piano-

There's a piano? I amble toward it, amazed that even this piece of furniture is spotless. I don't think I've heard anyone here play. I don't even know if it works. Maybe it's a prop. I lift the cover from the keys gently. Looks real enough. Probably best not to test it out; I might wake someone up.

Is this another of Kyoya's hidden skills, like swimming? Maybe I could learn too. I'm sure Tamaki would love to teach me… On second thought, that might not be so much fun for me. Tamaki would just praise me for every key I press, and gush over my natural ability, no matter how much of a train wreck it is. The doctor will be pleased I've found another idea though.

And on the topic of hosts and their talents, I guess swimming is another idea. An activity to occupy my time, to keep me from thinking too much about things that I'd rather avoid. Like how I nearly drowned. In the very swimming pool I would be using.

But still, it's another idea. Three points to Haruhi. I pump my fist halfheartedly in mock celebration.

Or, since apparently I don't like sleep anymore, I could follow in Mrs. Ootori's footsteps. I could start studying the stars, planets, comets, and whatever else is up there. It would satisfy the doc's needs and keep me from being bored out of my mind when I can't shut my brain down.

It's Kaoru's fault again, like last night. He spills his guts, I can't sleep. I spill _my_ guts, I can't sleep. I think I'm noticing a pattern here. Maybe the real secret to healing is to just clam up. I could refuse to tell anyone anything, and then I'd be instantly better. Or at least my sleep schedule might be.

But I doubt I'll get away with that, so what other activities are good for insomniacs? Nothing that would bother the rest of the household. Nothing that I have to travel for. Maybe I could have kendo lessons with Mori, or martial arts lessons with Honey. Though they'd have to give up their sleep too if I want instruction at night.

So that's out.

Hikaru and Kaoru are good at fashion and video games. I could learn to play. That's supposed to be fun. Don't a ton of gamers play for hours on end, never tiring of their latest obsession? And I could even do that by myself when the land of dreams drifts just out of reach.

Pft, am I trying to be poetic now? Stop that, Haruhi, you have no talent for poetry.

Though I'm not the worst writer. Maybe I could take up creative writing. I could weave an epic tale of someone who has managed to evade misfortune their entire life! The protagonist could have the perfect family, the best grades, and incredible athletic ability. She would do no wrong and experience no tragedy. And then she would live happily ever after.

Yeah, add that to the list of possibilities. That's gotta be like ten things already. It should be enough.

Making my way back to my room, I realize I never found Mrs. Ootori. Maybe she was sleeping after all? I should ask her what her secret is to sleeping through the night whenever she wants. She seems like the type of person to have control over that.

I close my door quietly, shut off my light and flop onto my bed. A short fight with the blankets later, of which I come out the victor, and I'm uncomfortably back in my bed. I look over at my window where I've left the blinds up. It's still raining. A quiet, restless rain. It isn't even making a sound against the window or the roof to help lull me to sleep.

How pointless.

::::::

"Mori-senpai, can you help me for a minute?" I need to get him alone, away from all the other prying ears. And I have to do it now, before club activities start up. Everyone else is too busy setting up to follow and eavesdrop, and the guests aren't here yet to require his attention. I should've done this already, but Monday I was occupied with dodging Kaoru, and Tuesday I was consumed by Kaoru's confession.

He nods and follows me out of the third music room, down the hall, and to another unused classroom. I close the door softly behind us, and remain facing it for a moment, nervous.

I need to do it like a band-aid: rip it off fast and be done with it. I turn quickly to face him, mouth open, ready to talk, but stop dead in my tracks as he raises an eyebrow, questioning our location. I deflate and look away, rubbing my arm. Slow and steady then. "Mori-senpai... I know Kyoya told you about my- about when I- well, my pool incident?" Maybe not so steady. He nods his head, understanding what I'm having trouble saying.

"And the other day," was that really only Friday? It's only been five days, but it feels like forever. I clutch my hand, hurting my stitches. "With the broken teacup," I clarify, because maybe _he_ hasn't built it up in his head to be such an astronomical event and therefore has let the whole incident fall away. "I was thinking about- I was going to- you know, with all the blood and everything." He nods again, calm as always. I take a deep breath and turn to fully face him again. "I just wanted to apologize."

Mori's eyes widen slightly, shocked, but I plunge ahead. "I shouldn't have done that, either time. It just kind of happens, but I'm working on that. I don't want to… end. and I also wanted to thank you for keeping my secret. I don't want the others to know what I've done- what I've almost done, anyway."

Mori smiles and closes the distance between us. He rustles my hair and then hugs me. "You don't have to apologize. Your secret is safe with me."

::::::

I can't concentrate on this session. She's talking – I can see her mouth move in my peripherals – but for the life of me I can't zone in on whatever nonsense she's spouting.

Tomorrow is Saturday. Dad's birthday. That's become almost the entirety of my focus.

He should be turning another year older. We should be spending the day together. I should be making him a delicious dinner, a cake, and whatever else he wants. It should be a nice day. He isn't, we aren't, I'm not, and it won't be.

It'll be a horrible day full of remembering everything I'll never have again. It'll be lonely.

"Haruhi?" I snap my eyes to Dr. Kaneko. The volume of her voice suggests it's not the first time she's called my name, though her inflection isn't as aggravated as expected from someone who has been ignored.

"Have you heard a word I've said?" She sounds mildly concerned. How long was she trying to get my attention?

I nod, head lazily returning to its previous position staring at the inspirational wall. BE A GO-GETTER has caught my eye today. It features the back of a woman in athletic clothing, running along a beach, sun setting over the water. Or rising, probably. Don't people go running more in the morning than evening? She's wearing new running shoes, likely completely filled with sand by her second step, but the poster depicts her mid-stride, as if the grit in her sock is non-existent.

Is that what it means to be a go-getter? To be able to ignore the irritations in life to the point they become insubstantial? Are the coarse grains lining her soles simply a case for mind over matter? Am I thinking way too much about a simple poster on the wall of an office I feel I've wasted entirely too much time in?

Yes.

Because none of that matters. According to the picture, a go-getter is simply one who follows through with action, most likely in order to fulfill some self-set goal. This woman either wants to lose weight, or tone her leg muscles, or exercise more, or be all-over healthier. She's actively working towards that unknown goal. That's the intended interpretation, regardless of the fact that dashing through sand in running shoes would be miserable.

Good for her.

"Tell me what's on your mind?" Dr. Kaneko snatches my attention back. She doesn't sound demanding, just curious.

"My dad's birthday is tomorrow. Was tomorrow?" I frown. Does that even make sense? A past verb with a future adverb? She might as well add unintelligible to her chart. Maybe I should've mentioned the poster instead. We could've had a philosophical debate about the artist's true motive.

As if _my_ scrutiny isn't enough. Let the stupid poster go, Haruhi.

"The anniversary of his birth will never change, so I think ' _is_ ' works best. Do you have any plans? Maybe a time set-aside to reminisce? You can think about all the good times you had together. I think that would be a lovely birthday gift for him."

"I don't know about that. I was going to visit his grave though."

"That's a wonderful idea! And a great place to share your memories with him, tell him how much you loved one activity or another, or maybe reflect on past birthdays and how happy they made the both of you."

"Mm." I agree to get her to move on. I don't think happy memories will be what dominates my thoughts tomorrow.

There are shards of sea-shells along the sand. Some appear to have only just washed up on shore. If any of those get in the runner's shoes it'll be more than a minor annoyance. They could cut her feet right up. Perhaps the artist was trying to contradict the superimposed phrase? 'Go-getters should expect pain in their path' or something like that.

Maybe being a go-getter is the answer to everything. In all the above senses of the word.

:::::::

Walking up the path it isn't hard to see that Tamaki is here. _Why_ is Tamaki here?

He's kneeling, head bowed, hands together. There's a stick of incense burning in front of each of my parent's lockers.

"Senpai?" I ask as I approach from behind.

His head lifts and turns to face me. His smile is sad. "I was hoping you'd come today, Haruhi." He stands, reaching for the bag in my hand. He wants to help, and I let him.

"What are you doing?" He doesn't belong here. He isn't family. _I'm_ supposed to light the incense and clean the graves and pay my respects. How could he take this from me?

"I just wanted to pay my respects. I hope it's okay. Japanese customs are a lot more in depth than French. I had to find a lot out from Kyoya, but I think I have it all down."

He shouldn't have done that. They're _my_ parents, it's _my_ responsibility. I don't know how to tell him that he apparently doesn't know _anything_ and to go away.

"Here," he says, reaching toward me. I just stare at the offered hand, upset and confused. He retracts it, frowning. "I'll take my incense down, and you can put up your own, okay?"

He takes a step toward the grave and grabs the stem of each stick. "There! And now you can wash them too. I'm glad you remembered the bucket." He gestures to the small pail and ladle in my other hand. "I forgot mine at home, and I felt horrible!"

Okay, this is good. So he didn't do everything already. I can still be a good daughter. "The flower shop at the entrance has a pail they'll let anyone borrow who needs one." I don't know why I tell him. He shouldn't ever need one because he shouldn't ever belong here.

"Oh! That's good to know! Luckily this is the first time I've forgotten, so no harm done."

First time? "You've been here before?"

He frowns again. "I thought Kyoya would've told you. I come every month. I like to talk to them. You know, keep them updated on what's going on in your life, assure them that you're being well taken care of. The others have each joined me before."

Every month? And the other hosts as well? I'm _scum_. I'm a horrible, neglectful person and the worst daughter anyone could ask for. I haven't been here a single time since the funeral. After mom, we visited often. For a while. And then yearly. But I haven't been to visit dad even once. How could I have let this happen?

I'm shaking some, and Tamaki evidently notices. "Hey, it's alright, Haruhi. Here, come sit for a minute." He gently tugs on my arm, leading me to a small stone bench. "Let me take the pail, and I'll go fill it with water for you. Just rest, okay?" Again, I surrender my belongings, at a loss for what else I should do.

How can I make this up to my parents? How can they forgive me when they aren't here anymore. I stare at the ground as the now familiar feeling of failure washes over me.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I should've-" I shake my head, frustrated with myself. "I should've _been_ here. I should've taken care of you." I look up to the grave, speaking softly. "I'll do better. I'll come all the time. Please, forgive me."

A hand on my shoulder startles me and I jerk my body around to find the culprit.

It's Tamaki, already back from his task. He sits on the bench beside me, though facing the opposite way. His voice is gentle, contemplative. "I doubt he was upset in the first place, so there's nothing to forgive." He smiles as he hands me the water pail. "Go clean them up. I'll wait right here."

I nod, taking the offered bucket. Dad's name is written on his locker… I guess technically it's his tombstone, but I've always thought these type of graves _look_ like lockers. I place my hand over the lettering, offering another silent apology. I do the same with mom. I dunk the ladle in the water, and then empty it at the top of dad's tombstone. I repeat a few times, making sure I haven't missed anywhere. Then, I copy the ritual for mom. Setting the pail and ladle down, I reach for the small tote bag Tamaki placed on the ground. I pull a small bouquet of wildflowers out, picked from various places on my walk here. They're all different kinds and colors. I place them in the holder beside dad's name. Then, I pull a stick of incense out and light it before placing it in mom's holder.

I take a step back and kneel on the ground, copying Tamaki's position from before. With my hands together I thank them for all they gave me and express my hope that their rest is peaceful.

I lower my hands to my knees as I look up at their tombstones.

"Hi dad, happy birthday." It's a sentiment that's supposed to be delivered with cheer. I can't even manage _that_ for him. I'm such a disappointment. "Hi to you as well, mom. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I guess I was having trouble-" that's not entirely true. I can't lie to my parents of all people. "Well, I'm still having trouble, really. I don't know what I'm supposed to do without you. I miss you."

I shake my head slightly, unsure of myself. I should be telling them happy things, reassuring them that I'm doing well and that I've moved on. "I fell from the top spot of my class for a few weeks, but I didn't lose my scholarship, so you don't need to worry. I guess they allow it under special circumstances. Although, now that I'm with the Ootoris I'm sure they would've just paid to have me stay at Ouran anyway. But I'm glad it didn't come to that; I don't want to be a burden to them.

"I guess Tamaki told you that's where I've been staying. All the hosts come over pretty regularly. I hated it at first. Sometimes I still do. But… they've been good. A nuisance, but they're really, really good. I think I probably owe them a lot. You could even say I owe a few of them my life."

I glance behind me to where Tamaki is sitting. He's still facing away, not paying attention to me. Good.

"I'm working on that, by the way. My life, I mean. Trying to find a reason to keep it – my life – because it would be a lot easier to join you two. Kyoya says I should live _for_ you. Show the world what you two did with your lives. But I feel like a pretty sorry accomplishment. I hate that I'm ruining your legacy. Kyoya's been kind of a saint, though. I know you always liked him, dad. He stepped right in when my life needed some direction. I think he misses your weekly chats. I guess Tamaki has kind of taken on that responsibility. I bet that annoys you, huh dad?" I smile at that thought. The last thing dad would want is to spend time with Tamaki.

"Kaoru says I'm not alone, no matter how much I feel like it. That he's here for me, they all are, and that he understands. He had similar troubles once upon a time, and managed to overcome his issues. He wants to help me do the same.

"Honey says he'll do absolutely anything for me. And he proved it too! I don't want to tell you how; I'm kind of ashamed of that. I took advantage of his kindness. I've never been that type of person, and I'm going to try not to do that again.

"I've been having difficulty sleeping. Not because of nightmares or anything, I'm just restless. I can't ever get my mind to quiet down enough for me to fall asleep. And I don't like being trapped in my mind while I try. My mind isn't as safe as it should be. I'm working on that too. Sort of. I should try harder.

"I'm seeing a psychologist now. Doctor Chizuru Kaneko. I don't like her. I don't even have a real reason not to like her, which isn't fair of me. I'm sorry, dad. You didn't raise me to be so judgmental. I'll work on that too. I'll try to be more cooperative with her. For the time being, at least.

"I think that's just about everything. I'll come more often now and keep you updated, I promise. I love you."

I push myself off the ground, drawing Tamaki's attention. He stands as well, rushing over to help me. He grabs my bag and the pail before following me back to the bench. I sit and he lays my things down in front of me.

"I'm going to stay awhile. You can go if you want."

He sits down next to me, smiling softly. "I'd like to stay too, if that's all right."

I nod and we turn our gazes towards my parents. After a moment his curiosity gets the best of him. "I thought it was custom to use both incense and flowers for each grave. Why don't you have both for each of them? I still have my sticks if you'd like to use one."

I shake my head, dismissing his offer. "Both or either are traditional. Dad never liked incense. He always said it clashed with and ruined his perfume."

"Oh no! I've been lighting incense for him this whole time! I'm sorry, I didn't know!" He's off the bench again, waving his arms frantically.

I smile. "That's okay. I'm sure he appreciated the thought. Especially since I was neglecting him." Back to frowning. Tamaki opens his mouth to protest, but I prevent his intervention. "That's why he has flowers though. Wildflowers, free spirited and colorful like him. With mom I usually take turns because she liked simplicity. I do incense one time and flowers another. Never both. I think she prefers that."

He sits again. "That's very thoughtful. I'm sure they're both thrilled that you remember those things."

We lapse back into silence. I turn my head to watch him. He eventually meets my eyes and raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Thank you." Both eyebrows are up now, surprised. "For taking care of them while I couldn't."

"You're welcome, Haruhi." We face forward again. Kaoru says I should lean on everyone more. He didn't mean literally, but it's a start. After a minute I scoot closer to Tamaki and lay my head on his shoulder. His hand grabs mine in comfort.

:::::::

I stare at the paper on my desk, at a loss. There's countless lines of writing that I decided to scratch out the second they formed. Tons of ideas, deleted. They aren't good enough.

A knock on my door pulls me out of my thoughts and I rush to shuffle some things around on my desk, hiding the scribbles and bringing math homework to the forefront.

"Come in," I call, and Kyoya does, leaning on the door frame.

"How was your visit, Haruhi?"

I ignore his question. "You didn't tell me Tamaki-senpai would be there." The accusation should've been more stern, but I can't quite raise my voice into the right tone.

"Oh, was he?" He looks innocently surprised. Like I would fall for that.

"You knew he would be. That's the only reason you let me go alone. I thought it was weird when you didn't insist on accompanying me."

"I just thought you would want this time to yourself." He's full of shit. "I hope Tamaki's presence didn't ruin things...?" He draws out the last word, fishing for answers. It's not like he won't hear a play-by-play from Tamaki.

I sigh, "No, senpai. It was actually kind of nice that he was there. Consider yourself off the hook."

He smirks,"Noted," before walking off to take care of whatever business he has to tend to now.

Alone again, I pull the object of my focus back in front of me.

Should I just leave one? Or one for each? Should I write a general one for the authorities and Mr. and Mrs. Ootori, and keep the individual ones more personal? Yes. That seems like the best way to do it. So, let's see, how should I address it?

 _To Whom It May Concern,_ I quickly scratch that out. Too detached.

 _Kyoya,_ Nope, not that either. Too abrupt. Maybe more of a lead-in.

 _Dear Kyoya,_ ugh no. Too structured. Though, maybe structure would be good.

I can go online and find a layout and examples of every other type of letter a person might ever need to write, so why wouldn't there be a template for suicide notes? Not that these are suicide notes per se. More like letters of farewell? Except maybe the general note. That could be classified as a suicide note. Probably. I should check for a template.

 _My Friend_ , shit. Cross this out too. Too mushy? At the very least, it's too generic. I could put the same for each of them!

 _Kyoya,_ yeah. I think that sounds right after all.

Do I really even need to start the letters by addressing the recipient? If I plan to put each letter in a labeled envelope, it's a little redundant.

Okay, so foregoing that and jumping right in.

…

And yet my hand doesn't seem to move across the paper no matter how long I stare at it. What do you put in a suicide no- er, uh, letter of farewell? 'Sorry, couldn't take it anymore, this is easier, not your fault, thanks for everything, etc., etc.'

I definitely want to make sure they don't blame themselves for this. And I should thank them for being wonderful friends. But, beyond that…? The letters should be more personalized. What I say to Honey isn't what I should say to Tamaki. Otherwise, I might as well just leave a single note.

Which might be easier…

No, they each deserve their own. Absolutely.

So,

 _Kyoya,_

 _I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me. You took me in, gave me space, were more patient than I ever thought you could be. You were a sounding board for my problems and you were always willing to listen. You pushed me in the right direction when I fell off course. You literally saved my life._

 _I'll be honest. At the time, I didn't appreciate it. I was confused and hurt, I was lost, I was even a little bit mad that I was forced to take another breath in this world. But later I was glad. You gave me another chance._

 _And I tried, Kyoya. I swear to you, I tried not to waste this opportunity. I had every intention of finding my way back to normalness and moving on. I tried being more involved with everyone's crazy activities, I went to the psychologist like you wanted, I even told most of the hosts about my issues._

 _It was enough, for a time. But now I have to follow some advice I found in that doctor's office. I can't sit idly by and keep letting the thoughts in my head rule my life._

 _Because I know you, I have one piece of advice that you need to hear. Don't fall victim to the misconception that this is your fault in any way. I started believing that about a lot of things, and look where it's gotten me. You didn't do this. In fact, you did everything possible to prevent this, fix this. I can't imagine anyone else possibly doing more than you did for me. And I know no one else will notice you beating yourself up after I'm gone, because you hide your emotions better than anyone, but I know. Consider it a last wish that you heed my advice. The blame is mine alone._

 _Thank you for everything, Kyoya, and goodbye,_

 _Haruhi_

I fold the paper neatly and place it in an envelope, labeling it as Kyoya's. One down.

 _This_ is what it means to be a go-getter. No more accidentally letting my thoughts get away from me and unexpectedly almost killing myself. No. Set a goal, make a plan to accomplish that goal, and follow through. No more sand in my shoes or shells cutting into me. No more pain of any kind.


	9. Closure

Well, that's it. I never thought I'd be the type of author on this site that leaves their story stagnant for months at a time, and I especially never thought I would abandon a story entirely, but today I am. I can't apologize enough to those of you who I know really enjoyed or related to this story. I'm sorry. I had plans for where this was going, and I had small scenes written out for the next several chapters, but I find they're completely inadequate and I can't seem to finish them. I really tried. I would sit and type away for hours, trying to pull the next chapter together, but nothing came out right. MY Haruhi was nowhere to be seen, and I couldn't get back into the right headspace to write in the voice I created for her. Below I've given a short description of what was supposed to happen over the remainder of this story. It's barely better than bullet points, but I hope it at least brings some closure to this story, for those who want it.

:::::

The next chapter was going to start Summer vacation, where Haruhi enacts her plan into motion. That plan? One day dedicated to each host, Monday-Saturday. After each day of one-on-one fun, the clubmates would all come together, as they always seem to.

Hikaru was going to be Monday. I actually had his day pretty much written, but as I said, it was lacking Haruhi's voice, so I won't be sharing it. But Hikaru's day consisted of a day at the arcade where he's basically trouncing Haruhi at every game they play, before taking pity and playing more co-op games instead of verses games. Haruhi doesn't really enjoy it (she's never been one for gaming) but she reminds herself (and explains to the reader for the first time) that this isn't about HER having fun. It's about giving her friend one final great day. One day where he gets to have her all to himself, and where, for once, she doesn't fight against him at every step.

Because that's what this whole week was going to be. One day per host, to basically say goodbye to the boys that meant so much to her. And on Sunday, Haruhi plans to finally end it.

Hikaru's day end with Haruhi agreeing to be the Hatachiin's doll, and let them dress her up. Of course, Hikaru (and now Kaoru) can't keep this wonderful show to themselves, and invite the other hosts to see Haruhi in all their beautiful creations. Haruhi is, of course, annoyed, but she puts up with it. This is for them, after all.

When she's finally back home and alone, she writes her farewell note to Hikaru.

And so the week basically follows that pattern. Tuesday is Kyoya's who accompanies her swimming. She still goes to her therapy session that evening (which is why Kyoya is this day) where she basically zones out again, this time with thoughts for the remaining hosts and how their days will go. When she returns from her appointment all the hosts have magically appeared and they have another fun evening together.

Wednesday is for Mori, who almost leaves the house before Haruhi shows up. (None of the hosts know that she has this host-per-day plan, and therefore never expect her). She's packed a picnic basket, and Mori drives them to a wooded area he likes. They traverse the trail until they come to a small waterfall. Mori helps Haruhi up some rocks to give them a nice view of the water and surrounding nature, and they enjoy the picnic and each other's company here. There's not a ton of conversation, but lots of thoughts on how serene Mori is and how he fits into nature. I hadn't figured out past the picnic yet, or how the other hosts would come into play here, but they would.

Haruhi writes a note of farewell to Mori.

Haruhi finds Tamaki on Thursday playing with Antoinette. The three spend the day together walking through and playing at a dog park. This day ends with another note of farewell.

Honey was Friday, and Kaoru was Saturday. The only part of their chapters I had gotten around to was their notes of farewell. But they would've followed the same pattern as the others, with Haruhi's only goal being to give them each their great final day.

On Saturday evening all the hosts were going to be hanging out in Haruhi's room. Hikaru needs a pen for whatever purpose, to which Haruhi instructs him to grab one out of the top drawer of her desk. This is a huge mistake on her part, because that happens to be where she's been placing each letter as she writes them. Hikaru notices the envelopes, each with one of their names on it and pulls them out, questioningly. Hikaru thinks it's all a game ("What's this, Haruhi? Did you write us _loooove_ letters?") and plays keep-away as he opens his to read. His face drops as he comprehends the seriousness of the content, but nothing explicitly says that Haruhi has attempted suicide, so he's confused. Kyoya manages to extract his letter to see what exactly this is all about, and then in a coldly explains to Hikaru (and Tamaki) what all their dear Haruhi has been hiding.

Honey can't believe that she was really just going to leave them with notes like that. Kaoru is disappointed, but understanding. Kyoya is angry, but not wanting to show that and instead doesn't say much past his explanation. Mori tries to comfort a numb Haruhi, who is stuck between wanting to bawl her eyes out and wanting to run away from them all. Tamaki doesn't believe what's happening, and tries to explain things in a better light. His beloved Haruhi wouldn't do this. Hikaru is furious and blows up at Haruhi, laying into her for telling everyone but him, for the letter that didn't explain anything at all, for betraying him by leaving him. He basically tells her that since their friendship is apparently worth nothing to her then good riddance, before leaving and slamming the door behind him.

Haruhi is finally crying and trying to apologize and explain. Tamaki is basically frozen, not wanting to believe anything he's hearing, as Kyoya pulls his phone out to make some calls as he leaves the room. The remaining three hosts comfort Haruhi and try to make her see that this is in no way okay. She's pretty unresponsive, Hikaru's words echoing in her head.

She doesn't end up killing herself. Kyoya's calls result in Haruhi being medicated to help with her depression, though she no longer feels the urge to anyway. Hikaru gave her the wake up call she needed to see how destructive her behavior was.

There isn't so much of a Happily Ever After, but the story was going to end with Haruhi finally taking control of her life and getting back on track.

And that's it. Thank you everyone who stuck with me this long. All of your reviews and messages seriously have meant so much to me, and I wish this wasn't how I repaid you. I love you guys, and again, I'm sorry.

~Snow


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